
^ CURE 


EMMA POW SAUDER 




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REV. EMMA ROW BAUDER 


ANARCHY 

ITS CAUSE AND CURE 


TO-LD IN STORY 



. 

REV. EMMA PO\UbAUDER 


OCCIDENTAL PUBLISHING CO„ 


M. 

Oakland/ 


THOMPSON^ 


PROP.^ 

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ILLUSTRATED 


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the library ®F 

OGN CRESS, 

Two Cot'll* RfcOtTVE* 

FEB. 17 1902 

/je^wQHT entry 

class No. 

■2. ’S' 0 S' 0 

COPY a 


Copyright 1903 

L. G. STAHL 


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PREFACE. 


Out in the great realms of ^atyre and Grace, God has 
organization from the beehive fo the Throne. 

Angels, principalities and powefsj uflitbd in strong 
bonds of organization, stand or fall to just.fsuch a degree 
as their union is perfected in love and triith. Realizing 
these facts, it is very apparent tb'any'tlose observer that 
the time has now come in America when the better ele- 
ments should arise, and, like one man, stand united in 
organization so strong that the powers of Hell cannot 
prevail against her. 

For the last quarter of a century American statesmen 
have felt and seen the anarchistic elements of other na- 
tions creeping into our midst, and, like a venomous ser- 
pent that it is, poisoning society, bringing unrest, dis- 
satisfaction and disruption to the government of the 
United States, which has in the past, and does now, stand 
for the highest type of civilization,’ and the most perfect 
freedom enjoyed on earth to-day. 

But it is this American freedom — ^perfect and beautiful 
in itself — that has invited to our shores this anarchistic 
element and made our nation sick with the virus born and 
bred in the hot-beds of hate and oppression of other 
countries. It has been the entire absence of the arrogance 
of national power maintained in other lands, in the 
demeanor of our government, that has allowed human 
fiends to stalk into our midst, scattering the seeds of tur- 
moil and death among our people. 


PREFACE. 


While America has stood with hands outstretched in 
fraternal greeting and friendliness to other countries, 
inviting such as love freedom and higher citizenship to 
come to our shores, she has at the same time embraced 
the disease that has proven death and disaster to other 
nations. Therefore, the malady of anarchy is upon us. 
We can readily see its cause and know that social chaos 
must ensue unless its evil work be checked and that, too, 
very soon. But to find its cure and the solution to the 
problem of anarchy yet rests in the hand and brain of the 
American people. It has been to that end and for that 
purpose alone that the author of this book, Rev. Emma 
Pow Bander, has labored and written. 

Wisdom would suggest that the reading and thinking 
public be given a better understanding of the real trouble 
in American society. 

That the rich are all social outlaws and vampires who 
suck the very life blood of the working poor is false, 
and ought not to be thus spoken of. And, on the other 
hand, it is just as wrong to brand the educated middle 
class as peace disturbers, socialists and anarchists, for it 
is not true. Anarchy should not once be named in con- 
nection with the good citizenship of the United States. 
American society, with its teeming millions, can be lik- 
ened in its structure to a Southern railway. Entering 
the city, the traveler comes to realize that he is whirling 
through mid-air far above the inhabitants that are be- 
neath. 

Looking down from that eminence he sees little chil- 
dren playing in the streets beneath him, many wheeled 
vehicles and pedestrians hurrying hither and thither in 
the busy activities of life. When all at once he seem- 


PREFACE. 


ingly drops from this eminence into the bowels of the 
earth. Choked by the dust, cinders and smoke of the 
engine, on he is hurried for a distance of two miles and 
finally emerges out into the heart of the city of St» Louis. 
Strange as this may seem, it is a correct simile of the 
present status of American society. There is that in our 
nation which exists upon the highest crest of the social 
wave, uncontaminated by sin, untouched by the biting 
and pinching of poverty which brings man into contact 
with vice and makes him, whether willing or not, to be 
a companion and accomplice to shame and crime. God 
would not have it so. He made this beautiful world, and 
in the beginning created all men equal and gave them 
equal privileges, irrespective of race, color or country. 

The author believes that both the rich and the poor 
are alike responsible for the condition of things now 
existing, and that if the dreaded spirit of anarchy that 
is now with us is ever rooted out of the nation it will 
require a unanimity of action on the part of both capital 
and labor. Therefore, a thorough and complete organi- 
zation looking to that end should be effected and the 
greatest wisdom of the age used in its evolution. She 
also believes that the lower classes are their own worst 
enemies, and that it is ignorance and vice that have put 
them in bondage and not the oppression of capital. 

She writes this book, entitled Anarchy, its Cause and 
Cure, showing by its arguments the true reason and cause 
of the present state of things in society. At the same 
time setting forth methods which, when adopted, will 
suppress the demon against which we fight, and rid our 
country of its plague. 


The Publishers. 



LIFE. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 


— Page — 

Chapter 1. — Ruth Mansfield 1 to 8 

Chapter II. — The First Day of Service 11 to 19 

Chapter III. — The Modern Social Ogre 21 to 32 

Chapter IV.— Ruth’s Refusal to Serve Wine 35 to 40 

Chapter V.— En Route to Europe 43 to 50 

Chapter VI. — Ruth’s First Lesson in Pneumatol- 

ogy 51 to 59 

Chapter VII. — In Deutchland 61 to 72 

Chapter VIII. — The London Working People in 

Line 73 to 91 

Chapter IX. — The Funeral of Judge Earnestine.. 93 to 102 

Chapter X. — Ruth’s Justification of the People... 105 to 113 

Chapter XL — Marie’s Confession 115 to 120 

Chapter XII. — The Great Problem 123 to 132 

Chapter XIII. — Following After Fate 135 to 139 

Chapter XIV. — At the Wedding 141 to 146 

Chapter XV. — In Legal Fetters 149 to 161 

Chapter XVI. — Playing a Double Part 163 to 172 

Chapter XVII. — Spilling the Wine at Ranch Ear- 
nestine 175 to 184 

Chapter XVIII. — Marie’s Vow to Heaven 187 to 190 

Chapter XIX. — Doings at the Mansion 193 to 197 

Chapter XX. — Sins of the Father Transmitted to 

the Child 199 to 208 

Chapter XXL — Falsely Accused... 211 to 219 

Chapter XXII. — The Rum Fiend 221 to 227 

Chapter XXIII. — Her Fortune Spent 229 to 239 

Chapter XXIV. — From Mansion to Cottage 241 to 245 


— Page — 

Chapter XXV. — Duplicating the Labor Depart- 


ment 247 to 254 

Chapter XXVI. — Poor Little June Bug 257 to 263 

Chapter XXVII. — Finding Her Mission 265 to 269 

Chapter XXVIII. — A Woman’s Methods 271 to 278 

Chapter XXIX. — The Working Woman’s Congress. 281 to 290 

Chapter XXX. — President Brumblebug 293 to 301 

Chapter XXXI. — The Science of Government 303 to 312 

Chapter XXXII. — Robbing a Bread Winner 315 to 323 

Chapter XXXIII. — Sorrows Sanctified 325 to 332 

Chapter XXXIV. — The Drunkard Redeemed 335 to 341 

Chapter XXXV. — Looking into the Future 343 to 349 

Chapter XXXVI. — Woman’s Ministry 351 to 354 


Chapter XXXVII. — Waiting on the Watch Tower. 357 to 363 



A TWENTIETH CENTURY 
STORY. 


CHAPTER I. 

RUTH MANSFIELD. 

The El Capital! had just left the Oakland Mole and 
was steaming out into the bay, bound for San Francisco, 
when two superb-looking young women could have been 
seen to saunter across the deck and take seats at the stern 
end of the boat, quite apart from the many passengers, 
whose respectful glances lingered with admiration as they 
recognized these two distinguished young ladies. 

Resuming their conversation, which had been inter- 
rupted when the masses arose and came on board the 
boat, Ruth Mansfield is heard to say: “The labor ques- 
tion is becoming one of momentous interest to the citizens 
of the United States, and I fear that unless some higher 
and nobler influence can be brought to bear upon the 
working classes we shall see perilous times in our larger 
cities in the next few years. The workingmen of this 
country have long been fanning into a flame the spirit of 
resistance against Capital and these organized bodies 
are to-day a menace to civil government, and according 
to my way of thinking it is high time that the better classes 
of society are awakening to the dangers that threaten the 
American Republic.” 


2 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


Thrusting the morning’s paper into her companion’s 
hand, she continued: “Read, and you will see that these 
workingmen, honest, noble fellows that they are, are beat- 
ing against the bars that their own misguided resistance 
to capital has welded about them, and their very effort 
means rebellion.” 

Then in an undertone she continued: “Listen, and 
you can hear, even as I do, the low mutterings of thunder 
and see the flashing of rebellious lightning as public senti- 
ment is being kindled for and against the labor reform. 
Yes, my lady, from the very fact that you are a capitalist, 
you should acquaint yourself with the movement of labor 
organizations and become familiar with both sides of the 
question that is so deeply agitating the minds of the 
American people. When clouds hover low we may know 
that a storm is approaching and the signs of the times 
should prompt every earnest-hearted person to be up 
and doing.” 

In response to this outburst of enthusiasm Marie 
Earnestine moved uncomfortably in her seat and said: 
“Dear Ruth, why do you so incessantly trouble me with 
your chatter about capital and labor? I am growing 
weary with such scarecrows as you present to me. Do 
let us talk about something with poetry in it, I am tired 
of this threadbare subject — ^the rich and the starving poor. 
Surely if the working people are in trouble with capital 
it must be that the fault lies in themselves and not in their 
employers. But to change the subject, I am growing 
chilly in this bracing atmosphere; you may put my wrap 
about me. Perhaps if I give you something to do, it will 
dampen your ardor somewhat pertaining to the labor 
reform.” 

Ruth Mansfield drew herself up to full height, her bril- 
liant dark eyes flashing for a moment with indignation. 


RUTH MANSFIELD. 


3 


and then moistening with tears, she replied: “Scare- 
crows! Indeed, the time will come, and if I mistake not is 
near at hand, when you will know that there is more 
sound sense in what I am saying than you can now well 
comprehend. Time will make you, even as it has made 
me, willing to discuss the wrongs of the working people 
as well as the rights of Capital.” 

While Ruth was thus speaking she took the wrap which 
was carried upon her arm and wound it comfortably 
about her companion. It is not hard for the reader to 
perceive that the two characters were mistress and maid. 

Marie Earnestine was one upon whom fortune had 
smiled, and with the consciousness that she was heiress 
to ten million dollars she laid back upon the world with 
that spirit of oppression which is common to capitalists. 
She had just rounded her twenty-third birthday, and 
from a social point of view was of great importance in 
the world. Nature had done much for Marie Earnestine. 
But indolent habits had left her powers undeveloped, and 
at the age of twenty-three she was neither talented nor 
pretty, nor yet was she plain. Being small of stature, 
with a pale, expressionless face, her brilliancy was in her 
diamonds; and the rouge upon her cheek was there in- 
stead of the healthful glow that might have been hers 
had she taken the proper exercise. 

Her maid, Ruth Mansfield, on the contrary, was spark- 
ling with youth and beauty. She was a tall, well-devel- 
oped woman of twenty-five, with merry, laughing black 
eyes and a dark, oval cheek. She was far. more beautiful 
than those adorned with cosmetics. Her very soul shone 
out of her face and bespoke a fine intelligence and gentle 
birth. Marie, spoiled from babyhood, resented this out- 
burst on the part of her maid ; but being deficient in dig- 
nity, failed to challenge that respectful obedience which 


4 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


she desired. She turned, like a naughty child, her back 
upon Ruth, who, accustomed to such freaks in Miss 
Earnestine, did not appear in the last discomfited, but on 
the contrary was soon lost to her surroundings in the 
perusal of *‘Ely Strong’s Political Economy.” 

Ruth was the only daughter of General Mansfield. She 
was born in her father’s palatial residence on the sunny 
banks of the Hudson and was reared under the happy 
environments of a cultured home. Being an only child, 
the son having died when a boy, she had naturally re- 
ceived all the advantages possible up to her fifteenth year, 
when fortune’s wheel turned backward and she found 
herself obliged to begin a battle with the world for exist- 
ence. Her father, once noble and revered by all who 
knew him, had fallen into intemperate habits and had 
bartered away his princely fortune, leaving herself and 
devoted mother in a beggared condition. Under the 
heavy load that had come like a crash upon her, the gentle 
woman had sickened and died, leaving their child to the 
care of a pitiless father, who now was lost in the depths 
of drunkenness. A few months of shame and he, too, 
had come to an untimely grave, leaving poor Ruth, a 
mere child in years, to fight the battles of life alone. 

Having a distant relative in California, the girl scraped 
together what little she could, sufficient to buy her ticket, 
and came directly to San Francisco, with the hope that 
she might continue her studies in some of the excellent 
schools on the Pacific Coast. But in this she was mis- 
taken; she saw the social line drawn and found herself 
in the undercurrent. She had never before, realized the 
fact that the children of the rich and the children of the 
poor could not walk in the same educational circles to- 
gether. Upon her arrival in San Francisco she was 
awakened to the truth. Finding her relatives too poor 


RUTH MANSFIELD. 


5 


to help her, it became her duty to seek employment for 
her own maintenance. It was with bitterness of heart 
that she answered the advertisement of Marie Earnestine 
for waiting maid ten years before. Then she had asked 
herself, as she had mounted the marble steps and pulled 
the silver knob, why this girl, who was no better than 
she, could, in addition to all her other blessings in life, 
aflord to keep a maid to wait upon her, while she, through 
no sin of her own, must forego an education. Her fists 
were clenched tightly and her spirit burned with hot indig- 
nation as she thought of the injustice. As she stood 
awaiting an answer to her summons, she began to look 
beyond the home to find where the oppression began 
and who to blame in this land of free people. As she 
reached out in spirit to find who should be her natural 
protectors, she questioned: “Am I not an American? 
And is not Uncle Sam rich and able to shield, educate 
and protect the little ones of his country? Am I to blame 
because my father was a drunkard and broke my sainted 
mother’s heart? Was it not rum that robbed me of home 
and protection, while Uncle Sam has gone into partner- 
ship with the liquor traffic? Surely, if he had prohibited 
the traffic, whidi is a curse to our country, I would be 
happy in school to-day ” 

She stamped her foot with a fierce spirit of resentment, 
her eyes were flashing with excitement, when the door 
opened and she was ushered into the presence of the sick- 
ly looking and inanimate little girl, Marie Earnestine, 
who was then but a child of thirteen. 

Answering the many questions that were propounded 
to her by the maiden aunt of Marie (for her mother haa 
been for some years deceased), she seemed to be a satis- 
factory applicant. 

Besides, A^arie had said: “You. see, auntie, she io a 


6 RUTH AND MARIE. 

brunette, while I am a blonde, and as we must naturally 
b'e together a great deal, her beauty will only help to 
enhance my own, and 1 shall not have to suffer the mor- 
tification that my poor friend Bella Downs does because 
her companion is of her same type of beauty, only so 
much handsomer than herself that it quite takes away all 
her own charms.” 

This was a new thought to Ruth, for, being trained as 
she had been by a Christian mother, she had never once 
thought whether she were beautiful or not; and to hear 
this child, even younger in years than herself, expressing 
such vain sentiments, gave birth in her heart to a feeling 
akin to contempt. But she thought of her condition, 
and knowing that she must work to earn her bread, she 
at once accepted the situation and engaged to come on 
the morrow. Be it said to the credit of Ruth Mansfield, 
she had not once paused to think that there could be any 
degradation in labor; and in accepting this situation as 
waiting maid to the daughter of a millionaire, she felt 
it most praiseworthy in herself to be able at this early 
period of her life to take such a charge. 

It was the thought that she must forego an education 
because poverty’s keenest edge had cut’ the support from 
beneath her feet that seasoned her cup with bitterness 
and sent her young soul out in quest of justice. It is 
very true that every reform that ever came to bless the 
world has come up and out from under some dark cloud 
of oppression. 

It was a gloomy day on the morning of the creation, 
when the earth planet hung in darkness in the Heavens 
groaning under the weight of oppression of other Heav- 
enly bodies. But God spoke and said: “Let there be 
light!” And behold, the bonds of oppression were burst 
asunder, the earth blazed forth transcendent in the glory 


RUTH MANSFIELD. 


7 


of Him who shines as “light of the world.” It was a 
dark day when the children of Israel groaned in bitter- 
ness under the yoke of Egyptian bondage; but if that 
yoke had been less hard to wear, Israel would have re- 
mained content in Egypt. Out of that bondage came the 
redemption of God’s people, born in the form of a 
Messiah. Out from under the rod Israel came forth in 
great power. Just so with all other reforms of the world. 

It was a dark day when our Pilgrim Fathers, who 
couldn’t find rest for the soles of their feet in the Old 
World and could not worship God according to the dic- 
tates of their own consciences, sailed from their native 
land. But out of that day of darkness came America — 
a great and gifted nation, “the land of the free and the 
home of the brave” — the land where Labor shall yet be 
crowned and the laborer be free indeed. 

It was a dark day when the chains of the African slave 
clanked at his heels; but out from under the lash of a 
cruel master, freemen have been born with hearts as true 
and tender as any child of God. 

It is now a dark day for labor in America, smitten as it 
is, yet in God’s own time the clouds will vanish and a great 
and noble people shall come forth bearing aloft the ban- 
ner of triumph. 

Just so now it was with Ruth. The Lord who has led 
the nations of the earth, the Lord who has led in all 
reforms and created all reformers, knew the process of 
preparing a soul for the warfare that is now bemg waged 
between Labor and Capital. 

This experience through which she was now called to 
pass was well and truly born of God, for had Ruth Mans- 
field remained through life in the same easy circumstances 
in which she was born, she could never have developed 
into the noble character which she was destined to be. 


8 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


Thus, while her spirit was being chiseled and carved to 
fit her to become a master workman in the art of reform, 
she began to look away from self and realize that she 
was only one of the two hundred and fifty thousand 
working girls in America who were at this very time 
without a finished education. As she walked away that 
morning from the palatial residence of the Earnestines, 
which was to be her home for the next few years, she 
was forming new resolves and trying to set her thoughts 
in order that she might charge down upon the enemy 
and work for all mankind. Blessed girl, with Heaven- 
born desires! Who shall say that the angels of God did 
not smile upon her and lend promptings from above as 
she was about to enter a life’s career? 


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CHAPTER 11. 


THE FIRST DAY OF SERVICE. 

The sun rose brightly over San Francisco on the morn- 
ing that Ruth Mansfield was to meet her engagement 
at the Earnestine mansion, and as she stood at the door 
of her friend’s saying farewell, the following conversation 
was passing between them: ‘T say, Ruth, it is a shame 
that you, the daughter of one who but a few years ago 
could count his millions, should come to where you must 
soil your pretty hands with labor and accept a position 
so menial as that of waiting maid.” At this remonstrance 
Ruth’s bowed head was lifted proudly and she spiritedly 
made answer: “Menial! Why, my reverend kins- 
woman, I had not once thought of this from that stand- 
point. Honest labor can never be degrading. My hands 
may be white and tender, but they can not be harmed by 
honest toil. Besides, God hath said: ‘The hand of the 
diligent maketh rich.’ Labor can never be degrading, 
for ‘as the altar sanctifieth the gift,’ so shall I if I am 
truly noble, elevate my calling.” And then in a gentler 
tone she continued: “My sainted mother often taught 
me that none were so menial as they who are willing to 
eat the bread of idleness. 

“That may be all true, dear Ruth, but the world does 
not look at it from your standpoint, and it is a grievous 
thought to me that you must come down so low.” 

Ruth’s cheek crimsoned at this remark and her voice 
rang out sharply as she repeated: “Down so low! Why 
do you not say to a calling so high? Who shall say that 


12 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


labor is not God-ordained? What care I for the false 
convictions of society? If society is in error, then my 
mission in the world shall be to show forth the right way 
to live upon the earth. Let not your heart be troubled, my 
friend, for I do not feel humbled in being obliged to give 
my hand to labor, but at the false education of the people 
and the seeming inequality of the rich and the poor. All 
I want is justice. Why are not the children of the poor 
protected by the government which professes to be of 
the people, by the people and for the people? Why do 
not the children of capitalists feel obliged to enter work- 
shops and factories, stunting their bodies and dwarfing 
their minds even as the children of the poor are obliged 
to do? Why? Simply because the only real protection 
that is offered is given to Capital. The poor man’s ex- 
tremity is the rich man’s opportunity. The children of 
the poor are compelled to bite the very dust because the 
government, which is so great and has become so rich 
from the rum revenue, has never once thought to educate 
the children of its people.” 

“Dear Ruth, you are wonderfully keen this morning 
and, I think, somewhat in error, since our public schools 
are free alike to the rich and the poor.” 

“Ah, indeed!” exclaimed the girl. “Who will earn my 
bread and raiment while I attend the public schools? 
And should I be fortunate enough to push my way 
through, subsisting upon the poorest fare, suffering with 
want and cold until I have been graduated from the pub- 
lic school, who then will take up my cause and send me 
to a higher place of learning? I tell you, my friend, 
society is out of balance and the burden of life rests upon 
those who are oppressed and downtrodden — oppressed 
not by individuals j3ut by the government.” 

“My dear Ruth, you are mysteriously deep in your 


THE FIRST DAY OF SERVICE. 


13 


reasoning to-day. Tell me, child, what has the govern- 
ment to do with the oppression you now suffer?” 

“It has everything to do with it,” replied the girl. “Is 
not the government a partner in the rum traffic? That 
the government might grow rich, my poor father was 
made a slave to strong drink — made a pauper and a 
drunkard ; and now while he is sleeping in an unhallowed 
grave I, his child, must suffer in poverty and want, being 
compelled to forego the comforts and luxuries of life be- 
cause cruel men who love gold more than the children of 
the land have sold their honor to the rum power.” 

“Ah, Ruth, what can you, a child of fifteen, know about 
governmental affairs or the wickedness of corrupt politi- 
cians? You had better apply your mind to childish things 
and trust God to care for the children of America.” 

A flush crept over the girl’s cheek and in a clear and 
ringing voice she replied: “Can not I read? The secular 
papers reveal much to us, and even though I am but a 
child, I can see and understand just how the children of 
the land are robbed of their rightful inheritance. I do 
trust God to care for the children, but is not man, in his 
power to legislate for America, God’s agent and there- 
fore coequal with the great ruler of the ntaions? Surely 
every man is a citizen king in his own right by the power 
of the ballot. But no matter how much man may desire 
to do right, his power is lost when the preliminaries are 
often held in the saloon. The higher promptings of men 
in office are smothered with gold, while the liquor traffic 
has become the most prominent factor in the political 
world.” So it was at the age of fifteen, Ruth Mansfield 
had really begun to set in order a chain of thought that 
must yet become a mighty power for good. 

Her poor little head fairly whirled v/ith the rapid suc- 
cession of thought that came reeling in like a flood upon 


14 RUTH AND MARI 3. 

her soul as she climbed up Nob Hill that morning to 
undertake her first day’s work as waiting maid to the 
young mistress of the Palace Earnestine. There was noth- 
ing plebeian about this girl who was now to take her first 
lesson in service for others. 

As she was ushered into the house and shown to her 
own apartment, and her duty portrayed to her by that 
frigid personage, Miss Emile Langsford, the maiden aunt 
of Marie Earnestine, she was made to scorn the haughty 
spirit of the woman who strove most imperiously to im- 
press upon her that she was alienated from society and 
must therefore bow before those with whom her lot was 
now cast. 

Detecting the spirit thus manifested, Ruth Mansfield 
at the very outset made a firm resolve that, whether she 
forfeited her position or not, she would at every and all 
times maintain a high and noble spirit of independence, 
and thus show forth her own gentle breeding; thereby 
proving herself to be the equal of any member of that 
aristocratic family. 

Poor girl ! She did not realize the many and sore trials 
which she must undergo in order to maintain that spirit 
of independence which she felt she must preserve if she 
would hold Labor equally high with Capital. But she 
thought (for somehow this girl was not born for herself) 
t’^at other girls equally as noble as herself, even at this 
present time, were passing through the same ordeal. 
Therefore she realized that she was fighting for a principle ; 
and she whetted her weapons upon the steel that was 
rasping her soul until they were sharpened fourfold. And 
a burning desire took possession of her to help other girls 
to stand as nobly as she would do, and therefore her high- 
est ambition was to do her best. 

Finding herself duly settled, she found that Marie Earne- 


THE f IRST DAY OF SERVICE. 15 

Stine reigned a veritable tyrant in her home. Every maid 
servant and even the coachman quailed before her. Every 
member of the family literally gave in to her. Would 
Ruth do this? She thought not; for, she said to herself: 
“It would be just as bad for me to indulge her in a fault 
as it would be to do wrong myself.” And so the two 
began together, each measuring the other’s strength. 
One or the other must yield at every point. Which would 
it be? the question remained to be answered in the days 
to come. Being an only child, bereft of a mother’s love 
and care, left to the charge of a wealthy and indolent 
father, Marie had come up in life with little or no restraint 
upon her. Poor girl! She was not only starving for a 
mother’s love, but was tempted with all the evils that 
wealth could place before her. Who can wonder that 
the children of the rich fall into diverse temptations and 
so often go wrong, since no restraint is thrown around 
them, and the very bulwark of society a snare? In this 
case the thing that Ruth most wondered at was that the 
child was even so good and true as slie was; for in her 
better moments Ruth could detect great depths of char- 
acter — shattered and uncertain, to be sure — yet not hope- 
less. Thus with the tact of one older in years, this gentle 
girl began to ply thought in Marie’s case; or in other 
words, to plant little seeds of love, Vv^atering them with 
her own sunny spirit that they might sprout and grow to 
strengthen and ennoble the character of her charge. 

A few evenings after her entrance into the home, Ruth 
was assisting Marie to disrobe, when the latter spoke to 
her in a very unkind and uncomplimentary manner, for 
she was doing her very best to please. Ruth stood apart 
with a look of surprise and superiority upon her face, 
which look was intended to inspire the child with respect 
and cause her to repent. Marie was in a rage, and fairly 


IG 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


screamed with indignation as she exclaimed: “You mean 
thing! I won’t let such an ugly girl as you come near me! 
I will discharge you to-morrow!” 

Ruth had never in her life seen a child in such a rage, 
and did not know that one could display such madness. 
At length, she exclaimed: “Oh, Miss Marie, just look in 
the mirror and see your face! Which one of us do you 
think looks the more ugly at this moment?” 

The request was concise and well ordered. Marie 
rendered obedience and the ef¥ect was miraculous, for 
seeing her own face distorted with rage, and Ruth’s 
wreathed in smiles, she at once became crimson with 
shame and burst into tears. She found herself helpless, 
and said: “Please, Ruth, won’t you help me?” 

This was an opportunity that the maid could not well 
afford to lose and she very gently replied: “Will you 
promise that you will not do it again?” 

Immediately the child’s arms were thrown around 
Ruth’s neck, and after the manner of penitent childhood, 
they kissed and made up, while a sincere promise was 
given by the young mistress “Never, never to speak so 
unkindly again.” 

This was a turning point in Marie’s life, and young 
though Ruth was, yet she strove at all times to wield a 
mother’s influence over the girl and make of her the noble 
woman that God had intended her to be. 

From this time a real friendship began to exist between 
maid and mistress which was sweet and bid fair to be of 
lasting duration. Thus the arrival of Ruth Mansfield at 
the mansion brought a herald of joy to the entire house- 
hold. It has been said by the immortal Beecher that 
“there is no place easy in the various avenues of labor,” 
so indeed our heroine of this story found it in the new 
part she was playing in this drama of life. But perhaps 


THE FIRST DAY OF SERVICE. 


17 


the hardest trial to her in her first day’s experience was at 
that moment when she came to take her seat at the table 
with the servants of the household. She had never before 
associated with uncultured and illiterate people, and until 
now she did not realize what a distinct line there was 
drawn between Capital and Labor. For a moment she 
bowed her head and asked herself to which of the classes 
she rightfully belonged. Was she thus to be ostracized 
from the cultured and gentle people of the world? Should 
she flee from the position and strive to make her way 
through the world by some other means of livelihood? 
The tempter came who had assailed her twice before; 
should she listen? What a plausible story he was telling 
her! She could still hold her position in society and per- 
haps go on with her studies. But only for a moment did 
she permit this monster to linger near her soul, for at his 
approach her pure spirit revolted and the very thought 
was repugnant to her. “No!” she said'; “A thousand 
times, no! I will abide my lot and trust in God who has 
led me here for ‘He doeth all things well.’ ” 

Then she took the inmates of the household and 
weighed them in the balance; for a moment only they 
hung there, and then Capital went up and Labor came 
down because love and humanity were on its side. A 
peaceful glow, which was the light of the Holy Spirit, 
illuminated her countenance and a glad look rested upon 
her face for she saw her duty clearly, and she realized that 
God was leading her by the way. At length, she mentally 
ejaculated, as though she were addressing a spirit at vari- 
ance with her God, “We must succumb to the inevitable 
and work for the toiling masses.” 

For a moment she looked far away in advance of her 
day and time, and thought there must be somewhere in 
the future a general round-up in society — a time when 


IS 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


Labor shall receive its just reward — a time when Capital 
and Labor would rest upon the same social footing to- 
gether. 

What a victory that would be! Ruth smiled joyously 
and as she raised her head from meditation she was 
accosted by old Jerry, the gardener, who said: “Miss 
Ruth, be ye a sayiii’ grace? Yer face bes a lookin’ as 
sanctmonious as a deacon’s.” 

Ruth smiled back, at the merry old man who was just 
bubbling over with good humor, and replied: “No, 
Jerry, I am sorry to say I was not; but I think since you 
have mentioned it, that we would all be happier and better 
if we would acknowledge God in all our ways.” Ruth 
could not eat, and therefore while her work-fellows were 
enjoying the repast, she was trying to think of some plan 
whereby she could benefit this group of colaborers and 
make them better for her association with them. 

It is a faithful saying that “A soul, like books, with true 
merit within, always finds some who appreciate its worth.” 

And so as Ruth sat that day in their midst, her real 
worth was being measured by them, and the influence of 
her cultured spirit had already made its impress felt upon 
every heart. As they arose from the table, Jerry came 
and stood by her side and said: “Miss Ruth, I sees by 
yer make-up that yer hain’t ben accustomed ter service, 
and me heart bes sorry fer ye, me lassie, fer me knows 
how thorny yer path will be in this ’ouse. But remember, 
me gurl, as how old Jerry am yer friend, and ef yer has 
any trouble jes come ter me and I will gi yer me counsel.” 

Ruth smiled at this plain, awkward speech that had been 
made in the hearing of all and kindly thanked the good 
old man who had thus taken such a fatherly interest in 
her. And as she passed out from the room, she heard 
him say; -‘Jes yer wait tjl] that divil, Mr, Harry, comes 


THE FIRST DAY OF SERVICE. i9 

back an’d the gurl will know what I bes meanin’ fer 
her.” 

As Ruth laid her head upon her pillow that night, she 
was turning over in her mind the experiences of the day 
and wondering what manner of warning old Jerry was 
trying to give her and what he could have meant about 
things in the house that would not be pleasant to hear. 
But being of a guileless nature, she was not one to meet 
unpleasantnesses before they came, and after breathing 
her evening prayer she felt an assurance of rest and 
security steal over her spirit, and as she merged into 
dreamland, her meditations were : “My mother’s God will 
care for her child.” 




AN EVENT IN RUTH’S LIFE, 








CHAPTER III. 


THE MODERN SOCIAL OGRE. 

Ruth was getting to be wonderfully wise for her years 
and many things were coming to her more like revelation 
than from experience. Her spirit, like a musical instru- 
ment tuned by an artist’s touch, was being molded by 
the hand of God to send forth harmony into the great 
discordant world. And, like Mediae, she was ever coming 
between the two discords, restoring a lost key or supply- 
ing a lost chord heretofore unknown. 

The world to her was not a barren desert, without its 
dewdrops and sunshine; for all existence was perfect, 
from creator to creature, and the future of man with his 
wonderful capacity was her sublimest thought. 

She revered the great and learned, and was ready to 
fall down at the feet of truth or to worship at purity’s 
shrine, believing that all perfection was God and the very 
Christ of the law. Thus her days were an even tenor and 
her presence, like a ray of sunlight in a darkened place, 
made the mansion more attractive day by day to its in- 
mates than it was ever before. Her very touch seemed 
to make the upholstery yield a more luxuriant repose and 
contending spirits laid their sharpened arrows aside for 
other and fiercer strife. She had her trials though which 
were hard to bear. 

A few weeks after her advent into the Earnestine home, 
she was given an opportunity to understand the import 
of the kindly old gardener’s words when he said, “Besides, 
there bes other thing in the ’ouse as will not be pleasant 
fer yer.” 


22 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


It SO chanced one day as she was walking in the garden 
poring over a lesson in algebra (for Ruth had determined 
by God’s help not to give up her chance of an education — 
no, not so long as she could get a few moments each day 
for study) that she came face to face with a stranger, v^rho 
greeted her in the following desultory manner: “Good- 
morning, my pretty lassie. Glad to make your acquaint- 
ance out here in this secluded walk. Am sure I ought to 
find favor in your sight. My cousin Marie has been 
writing me all about her pretty brunette maid, and now 
my eyes behold thee! So come now, just give me your 
welcome home and let us seal it with a kiss and thus 
declare our friendship.” Suited to his words, he put his 
lips so near the girl’s cheek that she could smell his 
breath and shrank from him as though a viper had stung 
her flesh. Drawing herself up full height, her dark eyes 
flashing with indignation, she exclaimed: “You miser- 
able, contemptible puppy! How dare you insult me this 
way?” For a moment the wretch quailed before the girl, 
dien disregarding his nobler impulse to apologize, his 
face assumed a beastly expression as he replied: "I am 
Harry Rumsford, a nephew of Judge Earnestine, the 
millionaire, and are you not the waiting maid of his 
daughter, Marie?” 

“I have the honor, sir, to be thus employed, but chat 
does not give you a license to thus approach me. Go out 
of my sight, and never again dare to speak to me out of 
Miss Earnestine’s presence.” 

Just at that moment, old Jerry, the gardener, came to 
her rescue and Harry Rumsford mockingly lifted his hat 
and said: “Good-day, Miss Mansfield, we shall meet 
again.” 

Ruth’s countenance wore such an expression of con- 
tempt that the whole matter was revealed to the fatherly 




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THE MODERN SOCIAL OGRE. 


25 


old man at a glance, and she burst into tears, saying: 
“Miss Earnestine told me that her cousin would be here 
to-day, but I looked to see a gentleman instead of that 
vulgar fellow. What a pity that such a wretch must have 
access to this home! One would naturally suppose that 
a person with so many advantages of education and social 
culture would know how to treat a lady.” 

“Ah, me gurl,” replied old Jerry, “it bain’t ignorance 
on his part. He’d not speak so ter one his social equals, 
as he has ter ye. Such a man as Harry Rumsford bes 
a parasite on society, an’ an enemy to ev’ry wurkin’ gurl. 
Ah, me dear, if ye wer ter go ter the slums of our city, ye’d 
find that many of the fallen women there tuck their first 
step down’ard tempted by jist sich divils as him.” 

Ruth’s cheek blanched at the thought embodied in 
Jerry’s plain speech and she hastened to say: “You surely 
do not mean for me to understand that his motive in thus 
approaching me was for the purpose of leading me into 
a snare — to cause my downfall!” 

“It’s about the same, me gurl. Why, just now, from 
behind the shrubs I overheerd ’im say ter his companion 
that he bes cornin’ down to make love ter ye, and when 
sich fellows as Harry Rumsford makes luv to a wurkin’ 
gurl, it bain’t for no good purpose. An’ me tells ye. 
Miss Ruth, if yer stays in this ’ouse an’ resist that wretch, 
ye’ll do better’n the gurls before ye ’ave done.” 

Ruth’s cheek burned as these words of the good man 
smote upon her ear, and burying her nails deep in her 
palms, said: “Then, Jerry, I shall do better than other 
girls have done for I will teach him that there is at least 
one working girl in the world who has the grace and 
courage to withstand the wiles of his wicked heart. It 
will do him no good to plan for my downfall.” Turning, 
to go to the house, she passed up one of the broad walks 


26 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


and came face to face with Marie Earnestine and her 
cousin, he whom she had given such a rebuff for his 
insolence only a few moments before. Just as she was 
passing them, Marie said: “Oh, Ruth! I want to intro- 
duce you to my cousin Harry. Mr. Rumsford, this is 
Miss Ruth Mansfield, my companion.” Ruth looked into 
the face of her young mistress and smiled pleasantly, but 
passed on without so much as casting one glance toward 
her companion. Rumsford’s cheek turned crimson and he 
gnawed angrily at his mustache while they both gazed 
until Ruth had passed out of sight. 

Marie was about to make apology for her companion, 
when her cousin interrupted her utterances by exclaiming: 
“The young vixen! how dare she treat you in that con- 
temptuous way! If I were in your place, Marie, I would 
give her a lesson on showing respect to her superiors. 
How dare a working girl ignore a request of her mistress? 
How dare she hold so high her head in the presence of 
the daughter of a millionaire? I am astonished, Marie, at 
your forbearance. She gave you an insult!” 

Marie tried to apologize for Ruth, but he was unreason- 
able and would not let her proceed. He soon brought 
Marie to say that she would give her maid a lesson in 
obedience — a thing which she had not attempted to . do 
since that eventful night when Ruth had caused her to see 
her face in the mirror. But now that the old wicked, 
domineering spirit was again called forth she was eager 
to reassert her authority and, if possible, humble Ruth 
before her. So, following closely upon Ruth’s steps, she 
mounted the staircase with more than her usual life and 
vigor; but was halted by her cousin a moment, who said: 
“Tell her, while you are about it, that it is her duty to 
talk to me whenever and wherever I see fit to address her.” 

Poor unsuspecting Marie! had she been older in years 


THE MODERN SOCIAL OGRE. 


27 


she might better have understood the meaning of these 
words; but, innocent of her cousin’s true spirit, she 
made herself think, as she was framing her reprimand to 
Ruth, that the girl had surely committed a breach of eti- 
quette and was greatly in fault. She thus went abruptly 
into the room Ruth had just entered, and exclaimed: “I 
say, Ruth, what did you mean by your discourteous treat- 
ment, when I attempted to introduce you to my cousin, 
Harry Rumsford? I want you to understand that when 
I stoop low enough to introduce you to gentle people 
that I expect you to acknowledge the courtesy.” 

Ruth’s eyes flashed and for a moment her face expressed 
the thought of her heart, and then remembering that her 
opportunity to conquer the foe would be lost if she were 
to give way to temper, she replied: “Miss Earnestine, I 
know my attitude must have seemed rude to you, but 
believe me, I could not so far forget my womanly nature 
as to permit myself to be introduced to one so low as 
Harry Rumsford. He may be your cousin, but for all 
that I know him to be a contemptible man, unworthy to 
be associated with pure women — and I do not wish to 
know him.” 

At this Marie flew into a rage and began to upbraid 
Ruth with wicked words, saying: “You plebeian girl! 
Don’t you know that Mr. Rumsford is my father’s nephew 
and has a quarter of a million in his own name? He has 
the prospect of a great fortune by and by, and how dare 
you speak so disrespectfully of a wealthy man? Don’t 
you have sense to know you would be honored by being 
introduced to him?” 

“Honored! Indeed, Miss Earnestine, I should feel 
greatly dishonored to even have a speaking acquaintance 
with such a person. You call me plebeian but. Miss Earn- 
estine, do you not know that in America only those can be 


28 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


called plebeian that are base and vile? To that class your 
cousin most truly belongs. Money can not make a gentle- 
man, neither can it cleanse a heart from sin; besides, I 
would ask by what means has he gotten his wealth? Did 1 
not hear Judge Earnestine say that Mr. Rumsford’s money 
was all invested in the saloon and manufacturing business 
of San Francisco? And if that be true, then his money 
is of the ill-gotten gains accumulated from robbing the 
noble working men and their women and children.” 

Ruth’s words seemed to Marie the most foolish she had 
ever heard, and straightway she demanded an explanation. 
Ruth replied: “You know, Marie, that Judge Earnestine 
said himself that in a certain manufactory where a large 
portion of Mr. Rumsford’s money is invested the income 
is five hundred dollars a day. Is he not in the saloon 
business and is he not murdering our men and wrecking 
the happiness of homes? No, Miss Earnestine, you need 
not try to introduce me to such a man as he, for I do not 
wish to know him.” 

“But,” persisted the young lady, “he is my cousin and 
is to live under the same roof with us, and you must treat 
him kindly and speak to him too whenever he desires to 
converse with you.” 

“Never!” replied Ruth. “After his insult of this morn- 
ing, I would rather talk to a puppy.” 

Marie’s wrath was now spent, and bursting into tears, 
she exclaimed: “I do not understand what you mean. 
Has Harry been saying anything to you? I did not know 
that you and he had met.” 

Ruth sat down by Marie’s side and told her all that had 
happened out in the garden path, not omitting anything, 
even that the gardener had said to her. In concluding her 
story she said: “Now, Miss Earnestine, I shall not think 
it kind of you to try in any way to throw me into his 


THE MODERN SOCIAL OGRE. 


29 


company, for he is unworthy of my respect.” Marie 
weighed the words with gravity, and though she seem- 
ingly had no comprehension of how her cousin had earned 
his wealth, yet she could see and feel that a base insult 
had been offered to Ruth and did no longer wonder at 
her seeming rudeness. 

For the remainder of the day, Marie avoided the com- 
pany of her cousin, fearing he would not take it kindly 
when she told him all that Ruth had said. After the 
dinner hour was over, though, he came suddenly upon 
her, and, leading her aside into a little alcove, the two sat 
down together to sup a glass of wine that had been 
previously ordered, and there in pleasant converse drew 
from her the story of their interview. He did not rage, as 
she had expected, but simply said in a braggadocio style, 
“Humph! what is a servant for?” 

“But,” ejaculated Marie, “it is unkind in you to try 
to kiss my maid, and I would not like to have a gentleman 
speak to me as you spoke to Ruth this morning!” 

“No, I guess you wouldn’t, my pretty Coz, but then, 
you see, you belong to a different class.” 

Marie did not see; for, being so strongly attached to 
Ruth as she was, she could not but recoil from her cousin’s 
words, which seemed to her, even as to her maid, coarse 
and vile. 

The epicurean sentiments expressed by Harry Rumsford 
to his fair young cousin are but the true measure of the 
sentiments of some of the male portion of aristocracy to- 
day. And the case of Ruth Mansfield is not one whit 
more striking than the daily experience of thousands of 
girls in America who are a prey to just such beings 
as Harry Rumsford. But, while this state of things 
in the face of society remains a glaring fact, many mothers 
gather their skirts around their own pure daughters to 


30 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


shield them, while they hold up their hands in holy horror 
whenever they see or meet a poor Magdalen. 

If we were to take a tracing line and ferret out the cause 
of many of the lost ones’ downfall, we should find that 
almost every unfortunate came to her woe from the luring 
temptation put in her way by the evils of the day. But 
Ruth, brave girl! being forewarned, was now forearmed 
and prepared to meet with contumacy every attempt made 
by Harry Rumsford to thrust his obnoxious presence 
upon her. 

But oft and repeatedly had she to assert her independ- 
ence, for, strange as it may seem to those who have never 
stood on the same plane, this wretch seemed bent upon 
her ruin. Be it said to the honor of the average work- 
ing girl that purity is held by her co-ordinately in the 
same balance with the daughters of wealth; and from 
the many rebuffs which they are compelled by the present 
state of society to encounter, they are far more able to 
withstand temptation than the petted dolls of society who 
are so carefully protected by governesses, chaperones, etc. 

Kind reader, you, who have never felt the cutting steel 
of society, will think that these words pre savored with 
irony. But if you will put yourself for one brief day 
in the place of some of our girls, your utterances will 
not only be ironical, but your spirit will rage, even as does 
that of the author whose hand holds the pen to tell you 
this tale of wrong; for it were useless to take our pen 
to tell an idle story. The age in which we live is too 
great with meaning for any one to spend their time and 
strength helping women to kill time pleasantly. Too 
many people love to read an idle tale while they loiter 
on the riparian banks, or sail down the river of Life un- 
conscious that a great, needy, hungry world is perishing 
for help and pleading for protection from that beast that 


THE MODERN SOCIAL OGRE. 


31 


stands as a giant ogre, not only to devour the working 
girls, but those who do not work as well. Right here we 
pause to say a word to those mothers who are constantly 
employing female help. Dear sisters, have you never 
paused to think that the Lord who has so prospered your 
efforts in life as to make it possible for you to exist in 
the lap of luxury, will hold you accountable if you do 
not keep the same tender, watchful eye upon your help as 
you do upon your own daughter? The same happy, pure 
environments should be in your kitchen or in your work- 
shop or in your office as may be found in the inner circles 
of the home. The blessed God who permitted you to 
become the mother of daughters has not only laid the 
responsibility upon you of training them in purity, but 
He has at the same time made you amenable for the wrong 
done unto other mothers’ daughters whom you may be 
so fortunate as to have under your roof. Likewise, He 
who has also made you a mother of sons has, by divine 
unction, laid upon you the same responsibility of training 
them up in purity as the girl that has been cradled in your 
bosom. She who, can calmly look upon the fallen woman- 
hood of our land, knowing that her indolence and the 
loose training of her sons has been the means of adding 
to this plethoric stream of woe, likewise in spirit must be 
consenting to the moral death of her own sex, and is, 
therefore, unworthy the gift of life for one brief hour. 
Ah, dear sister! you whose eye is resting upon this page, 
can not you see that the wrong done to our working girls 
is an indivisible wrong, and is only reparable through 
the earnest teachings of the mothers of all classes to their 
sons as well as to their daughters? It behooves mothers 
and teachers to raise up the same standard of purity for 
men and women,, teaching such principles from the very 
cradle side to the child entrusted to their care. May God 


32 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


hasten the day when American society may be made to 
dip “seven times” in the waters of purity and come up 
every whit whole and clean. 




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HARRY RUMSFORD IN CONVERSATION, 



CHAPTER IV. 


RUTH’S REFUSAL TO SERVE WINEw 

It is a faithful saying that “blood will telF’ in almost any 
life; but in the case of Marie Earnestine it was not so 
much the blood as a failure on the part of those to whom 
her training had been entrusted to understand her fre- 
quent cyclones of temper and the remedy that would heal 
her naughty spirit But if they could have known the 
yearning in her heart for a mother’s love and sympathy, 
even her frigid aunt, Emile Langsford, would have melted 
somewhat and felt constrained to do some motherly act 
which might have turned the fierce, wild spirit of her 
neglected niece. Love’s rays falling upon a child’s heart 
are far better than the rod upon his back, but poor Marie 
had experienced neither of these. Petted and spoiled from 
babyhood, one could detect in her natural manner that 
lack of gentle molding which might have been hers had 
her excellent mother lived to train her up to womanhood. 

All the environments of her life had been such as would 
have a tendency to lead her downward instead of to a 
higher and spiritual existence. Judge Earnestine, a man 
of easy and indolent habits, fond of the wine-cup and 
given to excesses, had little or no thought at all for his 
child, who was left entirely to the guidance of her aunt, 
who had no control whatever over the girl. And at such 
times as she would fail to inspire obedience, she would 
say: “Ah, well, it don’t matter much whether she has 
any training or not; she has money enough to carry her 
through.” Thus, like a wild blossom, she had been left 


36 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


to bloom in her own way and to develop as best she 
could. 

A few times a governess had been secured .for her, but 
her ungovernable temper had baffled all attempts on the 
part of such an instructor to train her in the right way; 
and the herculean task had been given up as too difficult 
an undertaking. No one seemed to understand the na- 
ture of the child, and not until Ruth’s advent into the 
house had they ever hoped that her incorrigible spirit 
could be tamed. 

Some years before her father had given her a promise 
that when she became eighteen he would take her on a 
trip to Europe in order that she might there give her 
education a better finish, and study the culture of other 
nations. 

This had been an everyday theme with her, and 
almost as much as Ruth had bothered Marie with the 
labor problem, she had in turn proven wearisome with 
her exaggerated ideas of travel. She was living in the 
future, and this wondrous trip to Europe was, she felt, 
to be the crowning event of her life. 

The time now had come when her father’s promise was 
to be fulfilled, for Marie had rounded her eighteenth birth- 
day, and in her wild delight at the thought of going 
abroad she was lifted into an intermundane sphere and 
literally seemed to tread on air as she counted the days 
before the family’s departure. Yes, Ruth was going too, 
since Marie had decided that she could not dispense with 
her services. Thus with a rosaceous blush upon her 
cheek and a brilliant look of expectation in her eye, she 
too was making all necessary preparations for the 
journey. 

Ruth was glad to go, for she felt that her rudimentary 
knowledge of things needed a better finish, and this op- 


RUTH’S REFUSAL TO SERVE WINE. 


37 


portunity was to her a God-ordained event — a time given 
her for the unfolding of cherished hopes wherein her 
spirit, so great with desire for knowledge, could give birth 
to fonder aspirations and greater purposes in life. Each 
day’s development in the life of Ruth Mansfield but re- 
vealed to herself that hidden away in the recesses of her 
heart were great thoughts that must yet be breathed forth 
upon the world. But how, or where, or when she was to 
begin her career was to her a sealed book, and only hope 
for the things to come was as yet made known to her. 

She fondly dreamed of a time when the accursed liquor 
traffic should be put away. Somehow she felt that at 
no distant day the government, which seemed so stern 
and dead to the despairing appeals of wife and children 
to-day, would take up the issue and legislate against the 
wrong. And yes, she even hoped that through her own 
efforts upon the earth there might be some legislation 
that would protect the girls from such men as Harry 
Rumsford. But how such a law could be brought about, 
the plan was not yet revealed to her. She hoped, too, 
that the time would come when all children could be 
trained, as she had been, in the counsels and admonitions 
of Christ. How she longed to have the Bible as a text- 
book in the public schools ! She meant to work for these 
things, but the task seemed very great. 

Great thoughts swelled the soul of this noble girl, but 
as yet they were nothing but thoughts. A trip to Europe, 
even though it were in the capacity of waiting-maid to a 
daughter of wealth, must afford her some knowledge of 
the world and things in general, and she therefore hailed 
its advent with joy. 

It was the day before their departure, and Marie had 
invited a few of the elite of her friends to dine with her 
before they went. Ruth was serving at the table with 


38 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


that sweet dignity so characteristic of herself which had 
won for her such admiration from the working girls as 
well as from the people at large. It had long been un- 
derstood between mistress and maid that Ruth would 
not taste wine nor in any way assist in serving it to others. 
But it so chanced on this occasion that Minetta, the col- 
ored waitress, was called aside and Marie had occasion 
to ask Ruth to refill the glass of one of her guests. She 
heard the request, but with gentle firmness refused to 
serve, and stood by her mistress’ chair awaiting the result 
of her refusal. Marie bit her lip in rage and again re- 
peated the request, but the girl stood firm, uttering not a 
word. 

At length Marie exclaimed : “Ruth, I command you to 
serve my guest with wine!” Every eye was upon her. 
This was a trying moment for the girl whose sense of 
obedience to her calling was great. But a principle tow- 
ered up above her, and she gently but firmly replied: 
“Miss Earnestine, as my mother lay upon her bed dying, 
I gave her my pledge that I would not touch or taste wine 
in any form, nor in any case be the means of giving it to 
others, and that with all the strength of my being I would 
work to put away the custom of social drinking among 
women and men. I am sorry to appear so seemingly re- 
miss in your sight, but my promise to my dying mother, 
who even now is looking down upon me from her home 
in Heaven, is greater than your command.” 

Marie gave the bell a vigorous ring for Minetta and 
at the same time said to Ruth: “You may go to your 
room. I will speak to you later.” Minetta came, but 
the young lady had turned her glass upside down and 
the other guests had put their glasses aside, thus signify- 
ing their approval of the noble act on the part of Ruth. 

The reist of the evening passed pleasantly, and when 


RUTH’S REFUSAL TO SERVE WINE. 


39 


at a late hour Marie found herself at liberty, she came 
directly to Ruth with a biting reproof for her stubborn- 
ness, as she termed it, saying: “I ought to discharge 
you for your insolence and thus take from you the pleas- 
ure of going abroad.” 

‘‘You have the authority. Miss Earnestine,” said Ruth; 
“but principle is more to me than the pleasure of a trip to 
Europe. I am willing to serve you in all ways honora- 
ble, but you know. Miss Earnestine, there is dishonor in 
the wine-cup and ofttimes disgrace. My father, who 
broke my mother’s heart and brought her to an untimely 
end, and himself went down to a drunkard’s grave, began 
his downward career with a social glass of wine; and 
just so long as God gives me power to speak, or think, 
or act, I shall fight this evil and work to free our country 
from its curse. And oh. Miss Earnestine! it is painful 
to me to see young girls putting to their lips that poison 
that has wrecked so many lives. You know that the con- 
vergency of the custom always tends to a point of 
destruction.” 

Marie was exceedingly nettled at the girl’s words and 
would have, like many another, argued destructively to 
temperance had she a shadow of reason to show that she 
was in the right. But knowing in her heart that she was 
wrong, and not willing to yield her point, she turned to 
leave the room, ejaculating as she went: “You are the 
worst crank of the age. Why can’t you be like other 
people?” 

Closing the door with a bang, Ruth heard her enter 
her own room, where she presently joined to perform her 
accustomed duties to this proud, willful young woman 
who had set her face in the direction of ruin. When 
Marie was cosily tucked in bed, Ruth came and sat down 
by her side. Taking her little white hand, now shorn of 


40 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


its jewels, in her own, she said: “Dear Miss Earnestine, 
I have been with you long and do most truly love you. 
On this account any harm that could come to you 
would be a source of much grief to me. I am really 
troubled when I think of you as a wine drinker, and I 
want to ask you once more to promise me that you will 
never put the cup to your lips again. Promise me that 
you will not offer it to your guests. I request this be- 
cause I really feel that you are in danger when using it 
so frequently as you do, and besides, your influence must 
tend to lead your associates downward instead of to a 
better life.” 

This gentle appeal was like “casting pearls before 
swine,” for immediately her hand was withdrawn and 
Ruth rudely ordered from the room. Brushing a tear 
from her eye, Ruth arose to go, but ventured, as she 
moved away, to say: “I can not help but pray for you. Miss 
Earnestine, for I know if you still pursue this course that 
sooner pr later you or yours will be brought to grief. 
I therefore beg you to heed my warning and put the 
cup away.” 

Marie’s head, which was tortured with crimping-pins, 
was lowered quietly into the downy pillows, and as she 
did so she said: “Go ’way, bugbear. The Earnestines 
have drunk wine for too many generations to be fright- 
ened out of their beverage by such senseless temperance 
babble. Good-night.” 




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AT THE WHARF. 




CHAPTER V. 


EN ROUTE TO EUROPE. 

The sun hung calmly out in ether, and San Francisco 
Bay was as placid as a brooklet that morning in which 
the Earnestine party came on board. The great steamship 
Oceanica loosed her moorings and sailed out upon the 
waters of the Pacific, en route for New York City and 
the Old World. 

This was a happy day for Marie, and a pleasant com- 
pany they were, too, as they all stood upon the deck 
waving their kerchiefs to the many friends gathered there 
saying their farewells and bidding the voyagers “God 
speed” on their journey and a safe return home again. 

Back from the group a pace stood Ruth, buoyant, full 
of hope and anticipation in the voyage which she felt 
was to bring her into a more direct touch with the world 
that she was longing to know. Upon the shore she could 
see the whole galaxy of servants from the mansion look- 
ing after her, whom they had all learned to love, and 
making such gestures as only she could understand. 
Among the rest was old Jerry, upon whose head was a 
crown of many winters. Leaning upon his staff, he 
looked his reverence and waved good-bye to the girl that 
had thrown so much brightness into his lonely life during 
the past five years. Tenderly he had pressed her hand 
at parting and said: “Miss Ruth, I bes sorry ter part 
with ye, for* long afore you return old Jerry’s head will 
be a restin’ under the sod out ter Lone Mountain. But 
I want ter tell ye, me gurl — for I tho’t maybe ye’d be 
happy to know it an’ sorter comfortin’ ter yer lovin’ heart 


V 


44 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


• — as how yer gentle teachin’ has shown me the way to the 
Savior. An’ Ruthie, if we bain’t privileged to meet here 
no more, then, me gurl, look out fer me; I’ll meet ye 
in Heaven! Glory to God! Ruthie, I’ve got a home up 
there !” 

Ruth’s eyes had glistened with tears of joy as she listened 
to the gool old man’s words, and she said: “God grant, 
dear Jerry, that we may meet in that joyous city. Pray 
for me that I may while here be the means of bringing 
many to that gentle Savior for whom you testify. My 
desire that my influence may ever be wielded on the side 
of right and that many may be won to righteousness.” 
And now, as she stood looking at him out on the dock 
and noted how feebly he tottered upon his staff, she re- 
membered his many kind deeds and his parental watch- 
fulness over her. She thought how oft and repeatedly he 
had saved her from unpleasant interviews with Harry 
Rumsford by coming so opportunely to her rescue. She 
felt her heart o’erflowing with a spirit of tenderness for 
the old man who was so near his journey’s end, and she 
prayed that God would freight his last days with multi- 
plied blessings from above and make them his best days 
upon earth. 

The ship was now well but at sea. Music, dancing and 
merry-making were the order of the hour among the pas- 
sengers on board. 

Marie, the heiress, much sought, was highly delighted 
with the voyage. One evening just as the sun was set- 
ting like a great fiery ball upon the face of the deep, a 
group of merry young people sauntered out upon the 
deck. Here and there a sea-gull could be seen fluttering 
low, and all the time the great steamship plowed on 
through the deep rolling waters of the sea. Marie stood 
looking westward. A yellow glow of sunlight rested 


EN ROUTE TO EUROPE. 


45 


Upon her cheek, lighting up her countenance in a glow 
Ruth had never seen before. For a moment Ruth saw 
in the depth of the woman’s heart, and there read, for 
the first time, tenderness, sympathy, and love for human 
kind. Marie, who had ever been cold, and at times even 
heartless! Could it be, after all, that this girl possessed 
a spirit of love? And if so, who had awakened this spirit 
to life? Ruth studied her face carefully, and then for 
very joy at the revelation forgot the time and place, for- 
got that she was maid, and threw her arms about her 
mistress, exclaiming: “Ah, my love, I have seen into 
your heart at last. Truly you are beautiful to-night. 
Tell me, what was the gentle spirit which illuminated your 
soul just now? Is it Cupid’s dart that has kindled the 
flame, or was it love for humanity, or love for even me?” 
For an instant only Marie yielded to her embrace, and 
then as if remembering her station and that she must 
maintain dignity in the presence of others, she broke the 
clasp of Ruth’s arms and said: “Why, what have you 
found in me different than that you have seen before? 
How came you to be so glad?” 

Ere Ruth had time to answer Earnest Stocklaid came 
up. He, too, was on his way to Germany and was about 
to enter the same school as Miss Earnestine. For the 
first time since that day when Marie had tried to introduce 
Ruth to Harry Rumsford had she presented her to any 
young man. This time she did not even say, “My wait- 
ing maid.” 

Ruth gently acknowledged the courtesy. The young 
man had something to say to Marie, so she, after a little, 
fell back from the company to digest a new thought 
which, prompted by his presence, had just flitted across 
her mind. Who was Earnest Stocklaid? And why this 
gracious courtesy on the part of Miss Earnestine? Had 


46 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


a new spirit been breathed into the girl, or was it a dor- 
mant one that had been awakened into life? Surely 
some power was working in her to make her face glow 
like that! And if so, was Earnest Stocklaid the one who 
had called it forth? The time seemed propitious. Ruth 
truly hoped that the day had come when the character 
upon which she had been working would put forth some 
higher developments in the line of true womanhood. 

The music had begun and the young people went be- 
low to participate in the dance, over which some seemed 
never to grow weary. Ruth turned and went below to 
her stateroom, for she did not care to enter into their 
merrirrient. Not that she was too old; not that she be- 
lieved dancing a sin ; but life was too heavy with meaning. 
So while others were merry and gay Ruth Mansfield was 
looking at the practical side of life. Each golden mo- 
ment was replete with some noble thought or deed care- 
fully and quietly done. 

This evening as she sat alone she was meditating upon 
her life of action in the world and wondered what she 
could do to get most out of life by way of education and 
of good, both to herself and to others. “Oh 1” she thought, 
“if I could only enter school with Marie, or have the means 
to employ a private instructor, what a comfort it would 
be!” And then she meditated upon her position and 
wondered what she might do to get money to help along 
her own advancement. She pondered the question long 
and earnestly and wished for gold. Unconsciously she 
took up her pen and began to write. Somehow the words 
flowed from her pen’s tip like the essence of dew until 
page after page lay in confusion before her. She paused, 
for this was a new freak — if indeed she could be said to 
be one possessed of freaks — -for she had never before in 
all her life written so many pages at one time. 


















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EN ROUTE TO EUROPE. 


49 


Laughing merrily, as though she were in the pres- 
ence of companions, she gathered up her effort and began 
to read. Ah! Suddenly she paused; what was this she 
had done? She read once more. She grew crimson and 
then the roses faded again, leaving her pale and weak 
as eager desire took possession of her soul. She finished 
reading the manuscript and then rose to her feet and 
paced slowly up and down her stateroom. At length she 
came back, took up the paper again and read it the sec- 
ond time. This time she folded it carefully, addressed it 
to an American magazine, and stamped it for the post. 

And then, like a child caressing its first dolly, Ruth 
tenderly held the package and her lips moved in prayer. 
“Dear Lord,” she prayed in simple, childish accents, 
“bless and preserve this, my first literary effort, that I may 
have courage to write again.” Placing a seal upon it 
with her lips, she consigned it to the mail-bag, and on the 
following day it was placed upon a passing ship bound 
for America. 

“Would it find favor in the sight of an American pub- 
lisher? Ah, who could tell?” she prayed, but time only 
could bring the message of its acceptance or rejection. 

Brave, sweet Ruth! may “pity and tenderness,” which 
are emblematic of thy beautiful name, move the world for 
thee, even as thy heart is moved for huamnity. 


* 




ABROAD. 





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CHAPTER VI. 


RUTH’S FIRST LESSON IN PNEUMATOLOGY. 

Ruth arose early the following morning and went out 
upon deck to see the sun rise. Standing there, lean- 
ing against the ship’s rail, gazing eastward, she caught 
the first faint peep of the beautiful sun as it rose slowly 
above the horizon. The wild billows of the sea surged 
hither and thither, while the mad spray leaped upward 
.and dash forward as if to embrace the first ray of morn- 
ing. Its song of unrest and wakeful melody which has 
not ceased for the past six thousand years was still being 
sung. 

It was a perfect dawn, and Ruth, so buoyant with life 
and hope, was delighted with the scene. Every nerve 
in her being, from the crown of her head to the end of her 
finger tips, was throbbing with pleasure as she gazed upon 
the wondrous beauty before her. Somehow her soul had 
so longed for this pleasure which it now felt that her feel- 
ings were indescribable. 

To stand out there at mid-sea, with the restless turbu- 
lence of the ocean beneath and the great canopy of 
Heaven spread out above, was, to her entranced soul, like 
letting go of mortality and resting in the grand freedom 
of God’s almighty embrace. To see the first faint smile 
of day out there upon the deep, and to realize in it the 
steadfastness and undying love of the Almighty, was, to 
her, one of the few joys of a lifetime. 

' As yet Ruth had never conjectured about the soul. She 
always felt that Heaven must be one of God’s most blessed 
thinking grounds, yet the visible here and now was of 


52 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


the most vital importance; and yet she had never taken 
time to theorize on spiritual existences. Her battle was 
with the seen rather than the unseen things of the world. 

Now, however, at this moment, her mind reverted to the ' 
unseen, and her spirit went out in quest of that One who 
could thus spread out before the world such a wonderful 
vision as her eyes now beheld. Where was He? What 
was He? And to what depths and heights must she at- 
tain to enter into a oneness with Him? And there, from 
the ship’s deck, her spirit took a flight out into space 
searching for the dwelling place of the Creator who could 
bring us this grandeur and sublimity. 

As in a dream, she went through myriads of starry orbs, 
she traveled into fathomless space, and with the rapidity 
of thought eagerly tried to locate the Deity, the Creator 
of all existence. 

But soon her soul ceased from its travel, and the light — 
the unseen intelligence of God — came in to illuminate 
reason, and for the first time in her life she realized that 
she was dwelling within the orbit of God’s love, and that 
“the kingdom of "Heaven was within her.” Surely God 
was with the works of his hands, and therefore possessed 
the right-of-way in every human heart which he had cre- 
ated. Thus man’s coequality with the Creator in all 
wisdom and love. But what of evil? If God dwelt in 
the heart of all His creatures was He, then, the author 
of evil? 

Earnestly this eager soul strove to peer into the unseen ; 
to rise to that eminence where she could comprehend God 
and get the solution of sin in the heart of man. Imme- 
diately, as by vision, the whole creation of God appeared 
before her spirit’s eye, co-ordinate in intelligence with its 
Creator; which Creator, upon close inspection, she found 
to be revealed in three parts, all of which were closely 


LESSON IN PNEUMATOLOGY. 


53 


blended into one whole — the physical, the intellectual, 
and the spiritual; God all in all. The earth, the sea, and 
every atom of matter in the existing universe were indeed 
the physical body of the great “I Am.” 

Old Sol, out there with his beneficent rays of light that 
flooded both sea and land with the glory of morning, 
was, to her, the great eye of the Almighty. In it she could 
behold God’s boundless and exhaustless wisdom. In it 
she could see intelligence divine. 

The throbbing of the sea, the breeze kissing her blush- 
ing cheek, which was being wafted from tropic to 
zone, the life of the tiniest flowerlet, even the beating 
of her own heart, all told of the wonderful spirit of life 
which is God. 

In spirit she saw Him, immense, wonderful, too great 
for the comprehension of a weak human brain, as his 
three magnificent parts were being blended into one beau- 
tiful and perfect whole. Then she took man and placed 
him beside his Creator — physical man, intellectual man, 
and spiritual man. Yes, the creature bore direct sem- 
blance to its Creator, and God most truly was its author. 
In the beginning man was created perfect in all his parts. 
How was it in this degenerate world that that perfect crea- 
ture of God had lost his blending and taken into his being 
sin, which, indeed, is spiritual death? 

Reason being quickened by the inspiration of that 
Divine One, the truth began to dawn upon her. And 
Ruth could see that in all reason God was equal in all his 
parts, harmoniously blending and interblending with him- 
self. Hence, there could be no discord in the correct ex- 
istence of a Creator. But man had fallen, and in his 
descent struck upon the discord of the kingdom of dark- 
ness. And Hate had entered wherein Love should dwell. 

She calmly looked over the human race and weighed 


54 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


man in the balance with Him in whose image man was 
created. What a disparity! And how far short he has 
fallen of the image of Him in whose likeness he was 
made ! 

Here, she found one with an immense physical and 
intellectual being, while the spiritual was dwarfed and 
puny, and in the place where a spirit of love should flame 
forth in great power to blend harmoniously with the 
physical and intellectual, she found hate, which is directly 
the opposite of God. Another, with an immense intel- 
lect, with a feeble physical and spiritual being. And yet 
another, with great spirituality, but lacking in intellect and 
physical force. No wonder that the human race were 
writhing upon the torture rack! No wonder that the 
machinery of life was out of gear and the collateral re- 
lationship of man becoming more and more degenerate, 
while the whole human family were becoming weaker 
and more inanimate with such an unequal blending of 
the three magnificent parts of God! Was the Creator 
to blame for the condition of the children of men? Ah, 
no! It was man’s own inconsistency that had caused 
this state of things upon the earth and shut him out of 
harmony with his Maker and Creator. 

Directly her mind reverted to the labor question, and 
she wondered if these great truths that had just dawned 
upon her pertaining to God and man could be applied 
to the present issues between man and man. “Most sure- 
ly,” she meditated, “God’s natural and divine laws are 
one, and the same law that governs creation also governs 
that which is created.” 

Directly Capital and Labor stood before her to be 
judged as man had been. Yes, true to the law of God, 
she found that the workingman’s difficulty with Capital 
had all been brought about because of inequality in the 


LESSON IN PNEUMATOLOGY. 


55 


interblending of the rights of men. Avarice and greed 
developed in Capital a moral monstrosity; while the 
physical being, rightly interpreted, is the brawn of man- 
hood; and the spiritual, which means justice and equality , 
to all men, is excluded from the body politic, the natural 
result of which means death to progress and freedom. 
This was Ruth’s first lesson in pneumatology, and as she 
took her eye off from the beneficent display of God’s 
handiwork, as his beautiful sun lighted all the world with 
glory, and went to her duties below, sfie was trying to set 
in order the lesson that she might give it to poor, mis- 
shapen society, the world. 

Rapping at Marie’s door, she found “my lady” already 
dressed for the breakfast room. Passing below, they met 
with a cheery “Good-morning” from the captain and a 
pleasant nod from the passengers one and all on board. 

Soon as all were seated at the table, the merry captain 
of the ship informed the company that ere the setting of 
the sun the ship would drop anchor in a German port. At 
this Ruth’s heart leaped with gladness, for she was weary 
with the many days at sea and longed to be where she 
could once more look upon calm, quiet nature, so much 
more beautiful to her than the turbulent surging of the 
ocean waves. 

It was vesper-time and the bells were pealing out the 
hour for worship just as the ship drew into harbor and the 
weary passengers put foot upon German soil. Ruth was 
all alert to catch the foreign accent and hear the friendly 
greeting. She was much amused to hear the German 
handled so skillfully, and was immediately provoked to 
merriment as she heard a sweet-faced woman of the Ger- 
man peasantry (who was carrying a basket of apples upon 
her head) exclaim to her fellows: “Mein Gott! Sehe 
doch diesses madchen von Amerika; sie ist eben so gut 


56 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


gekleitet wie meine madam.” Until this moment Ruth 
had not given any thought to her personal appearance, 
nor paused to think that she was indeed dressed quite 
as elegant as Miss Earnestine, save her jewels. But now 
the thought flashed across her mind that, for most part, 
the American wage-earner was a capitalist in his own 
right and the freest people upon the face of the earth 
compared to the downtrodden poor of other lands. 

Marie’s ear had also caught the idiom of the peasant 
woman, and, being conversant with the German, had 
understood its full import; while Ruth had only a smat- 
tering of the language and had had to guess at a part 
of the sentence. 

Marie turned to her maid and for the first time in her 
life cracked a joke at her, saying: “I declare, Ruth, you 
are gotten up more elegantly than I, and your coif¥ure 
is even more becoming. I think, my dear, you will have 
to comb your hair down over your ears while we are 
in Deutchland in order to dignify the appearance of your 
mistress.” 

Ruth’s eyes twinkled with merriment and she replied: 
'There will be no occasion, Miss Earnestine, for you are 
improving so wondrously on this journey that ere long 
the effulgence of your beauty will quite surpass the charms 
of your maid.” 

They were now comfortably located at the hotel at 
Baden Baden. The whole party had decided to remain 
together, visiting the principal cities the first few weeks, 
ere the time should come for Marie to enter her school. 
A very agreeable arrangement to the young people^ who 
had been so congenial to each other ever since thy left 
San Francisco. 

It so chanced one evening, where they had tarried long 
at dinner and were merry — Marie in perfect glee — that 


LESSON IN PNEUMATOLOGY. 


5 ^ 


Ruth caught her words just as she was saying to the 
young man at her side, who seemed to be greatly infatu- 
ated by her wiles, “Oh, fie! Earnest, I do not believe in 
pledges. According to my estimation, a fellow that must 
be obligated by a pledge to keep from taking a sip of 
wine is a coward, and is unworthy any lady’s attention. 
Come now,” she said, “be manly and drink to my health 
here in this far-off Germany.” Earnest Stocklaid turned 
pale with emotion and he said: “Don’t tempt me. Miss 
Earnestine, it was my last promise to my mother before 
I left America that I would not put the cup to my lips 
while abroad.” Marie’s reply was a heartless sneer, and 
she haughtily turned her back upon the young man 
whom she was tempting. An instant only did Earnest 
Stocklaid waver, and then said: “Miss Earnestine, give 
me the glass ; I can not bear your scorn.” Exultantly she 
laughed, while with her jeweled hand she pressed the 
cup to his lips and lightly whispered some witticism with- 
in his ear. As her breath swept over his cheek a rubi- 
cund tinge crept over his lips and brow, and one could 
see that the man’s will was swept away by a woman’s 
wiles. Arising from the table, she leaned heavily upon 
Ruth’s arm and with unsteady step was led away to her 
room to dress for the evening ball. As they passed out 
Ruth glanced back over her shoulder at young Stock- 
laid. She fancied she could see a look of sadness resting 
upon his countenance like one humiliated. Manhood 
had gone out to embrace wantonness and sin. When 
once in the seclusion of their room, Ruth took a seat by 
Marie’s side and said: “Oh, Miss Earnestine! what an 
awful thing you have done! If that young man whom 
you have just now tempted, and who has yielded to your 
wiles, should fall and become a drunkard, surely ‘his 
blood will be upon your head.’ If such a thing should 


68 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


ever come to pass that he is lost through drink, I would 
not stand in your place. No! not for a million worlds! 
You shall stand at the judgment to answer for what you 
have done to-night.” And then, falling upon her knees 
at Marie’s feet, she plead: “Dear Miss Earnestine, prom- 
ise me that you will not drink another drop of wine, any- 
way until you return to America.” 

Marie’s scornful glance fell upon the kneeling figure 
at her feet, dark and evil, then putting her dainty foot 
against the girl, replied: “Ruth, how absurd yOu are! 
Just as though a little wine could hurt one or make one 
a; drunkard, even! Why, this wine we were drinking just 
now came from our own winery in far off California, and 
I know it is pure, exhilarating and will do one good. 
How silly of you to make such a fuss about a little matter! 
Just as though one could become a drunkard from drink- 
ing wine!” Ruth had risen to her feet and stood with 
clasped hands while she listened to the unschooled words 
of the poor, misguided girl and wondered what argument 
she could use that would convince her of the actual truth. 
She halted, then said : “It may be pure wine. Miss Earn- 
estine, but it can never be harmless. No! not so long ‘as 
it giveth his color in the cup; when it moveth itself aright; 
for at last it biteth like a serpent and stingeth like an 
adder.’ I tell you, dear, there is danger in the cup. Many 
nobler souls than yourself, or that young man, have fallen 
to the gutter who began with the wine cup.” 

Marie laughed scornfully and then contemptuously re- 
plied: “Ruth, you are a bore to me about this wine ques- 
tion, and you must not mention it again to me. Come 
now, the hour is passing; hasten and dress me for the 
party or this German folk will think me amiss in coming 
late to their tanzen.” 

Ruth’s grief was plainly visible as she turned -away. 


LESSON IN PNEUMATOLOGY. 


59 


Even Marie was touched by her sorrowful look, and 
jocosely said: “Come now, my good maid, don’t look so 
grief-stricken over my sins, but give me your pledge 
not to mention temperance or labor again until we return 
to our far-off America. Be a sensible girl and give me 
your promise.” 

“No,” said Ruth, “I will not promise you. If the ad- 
vocating of temperance and humane principles lead my 
fellow-beings down to death and ruin, if it wrecked homes, 
and made monopolies in the world, then I would chain 
my tongue, but not now.” 

My dear girls, you who are treading the same pathway 
that Marie trod, think wisely before you put the cup to 
your lips or offer it to another. For I tell you true, it is 
the pathway to ruin and shame, and your own eternal 
happiness depends upon your abstinence, as well as that 
of your loved ones. You may be as Marie was, a petted 
daughter of wealth and a leader in high society; you 
may belong to the world and be surrounded by tempta- 
tions and sin; you may be a shop-girl or a maid-of-all- 
work ; no matter what your station in life may be, I raise 
a warning finger and tell you true that perfect happiness 
was never yet. found in the cup of wine. For a serpent 
lurketh there that will turn your joy to sadness, rob you of 
love and plenty, and make you wretched all the days of 
your life upon the earth. Hell, with all its devices to cap- 
ture a human soul, has none other so terrible and sure 
as the wine cup. 



EVENING GAIETY 




CHAPTER VII. 


IN DEUTCHLAND. 

To use an American expression, the Earnestine party 
tvere trying to ‘‘do Germany.” With great pomp and 
much display of wealth, they had visited all the principal 
cities, and were seen of men at least, if they had not seen 
Deutchland. And Ruth began to feel that in all her wait- 
ing upon Miss Earnestine she had not learned the art 
until she had come abroad, for so constantly was she em- 
ployed and so menial were the services Marie required, 
that the dear girl began to wish that she had a nobler soul 
with whom to deal. For Marie’s redounding spirit of exac- 
tion which Ruth had thought so improved was, in this new 
role, redoubled, and her manner of addressing her maid 
was most exacting. American aristocracy, so at variance 
with the culture of other countries, have yet to learn the 
law of gentleness to their inferiors. England’s Queen, 
or Lady, where blood draws the line between the upper 
and lower classes ; Germany, whose long lineage of 
aristocracy has held a steadfast power over its people, 
would scorn to allow such biting words fall from their lips 
to their inferiors. But Americans, who grow rich to-day 
and are pauperized to-morrow, have yet to learn that true 
nobility is not begotten of wealth. There is, however, a 
true nobility in America — a people of the manner born — 
who do never so far forget their own nobility and gentle 
breeding as to lose sight of gentleness of spirit and pure- 
ness of heart; which tv/o virtues, coupled with intelli- 
gence, must make any single individual whom God has 
made truly good. 

But poor Marie, who was a veritable autocrat in her 


62 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


strenuous efforts to make herself appear great in the sight 
of the Germans, more often called forth their remarks 
detrimental to her gentle breeding. While Ruth, not un- 
conscious that the heiress was being measured by that 
staid people, tried, with beautiful endeavor, to honor her 
countrywomen by showing forth the sweet graces of a 
truly cultured spirit. For so perfect had been her train- 
ing during her childhood that no matter what amount 
of harshness was brought to bear upon her, she never 
for a moment forgot that she had a gentle birthright and 
a ^mother who was a queen among women. And while 
enduring her many and severe trials with Marie, she 
would sometimes say, when noting the criticisms of the 
people, “Aunt Langsford oft-repeated remark is not true, 
for there are some places where money will not carry her 
through.” As well expect a blast from an ice-berg blow- 
ing upon a hot-house plant to unfold its petals in beauty 
as such distant bearing to show forth the culture of Ameri- 
can women. 

At last the tour' through the German cities had been 
made, and the company had come back to Frankfort-on- 
the-Main to see Marie placed in school, and Irom thence 
their party was to break up and go into their several direc- 
tions to take in the principal points in the Old World. 
Aunt Langsford had decided that she would stay in Ger- 
many as chaperon and companion to her niece, whom 
she regarded more as a daughter than otherwise, and 
now felt that she could not be happy in being separated 
from her. Therefore, at her own suggestion, a comforta- 
ble cottage had been selected in the beautiful city of 
Frankfort and everything made cheerful to the idolized 
daughter of Judge Earnestine. Marie was to spend her 
mornings in the school, while her afternoons were se' 
apart for her own recreation. This plan was most agree 



VIEW OF THE ITALIAN COAST. 



64 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


able to Ruth, who, knowing Miss Earnestine’s habits so 
well as she did, felt that it would not only give her the 
morning to follow her own pursuits, but a part of the 
afternoon also could be devoted to her own self-culture. 
Already she felt her spirit enlarged from intercourse with 
the world and the daily contact with elements unusual 
in her life was proving to be a wonderful advantage, and 
she fondly dreamed of better and richer things in store; 
things that would bring more lasting privileges than she 
yet had known. Sitting one day at her desk, she was 
startled by the postman’s horn. Arising, she went quick- 
ly to the door. The good-natured carrier greeted her 
with a pleasant “Good-morning,” and said : “Mein Liebes 
Fraulein, unterzeichnen sie fur Ihren Brief?” She wrote 
her superscription on the man’s card, and, taking the 
letter in her hand, tremblingly hastened away to her own 
room and with much eagerness broke the seal to read its 
contents. To her great surprise a bank note for the sum 
of one hundred dollars fell out upon her lap. Her eyes 
opened wide with wonderment as she unfolded the closely 
written letter that had accompanied the check to see from 
whence it came. It was dated New York, and read as 
follows: 

“Miss Ruth Mansfield: 

“Dear Young Lady — Your manuscript is at hand and 
most highly approved, for which please find inclosed a 
check as payment. Future efforts will be duly rewarded 
and most cheerfully received.” 

To say that the girl was glad is a feeble expression of 
her delight. Had she fallen heir to a fortune she could 
scarcely have experienced more joy; for in the reward 
she saw a due acknowledgment of her talents, and talent 
meant fortune and prosperity. The occasion was well 
deserving of some demonstration, but what could she do 



NOTRE DAME— PA^lIS. 





66 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


to celebrate the event? She looked about to find some 
object upon which to give noisy vent to the glad hurrah 
in her heart Had she been in America she could have 
set the bells in the cupola on the mansion Earnestine off 
in a merry peal, but as it was she could do nothing more 
than to seat herself at the piano-forte and play a rousing 
“Yankee Doodle.” 

Aunt Langsford came to see what had awakened the 
merry sprite in the spirit of sedate Ruth Mansfield, and 
rejoiced with her in her new mine of wealth — which tal- 
ent was indeed the promise of a great future. 

Donning a jaunty little bonnet — the product of her own 
hands — and buttoning a dainty jacket about her, Ruth 
set out in quest of a tutor. Aunt Langsford, who had long 
since ceased from her dogmatic ways and was really a 
true friend to this irrepressible piece of nobility, had to be 
taken into the secret, and Ruth began to study under the 
tutorage of Professor Von Chuberg. 

Few American girls ever tried as Ruth tried to develop 
all the faculties of their being. And now when this, to 
her, God-ordained opportunity had opened up before 
her, she embraced it with that genuine spirit of satisfac- 
tion which merited for her the richest success. 

Marie seemed to have entered into her school with a 
better zest than anything that she had ever before under- 
taken. But, being deficient in the common branches of 
education, she often had occasion to seek Ruth, who was 
ever willing to lend a hand and help her solve the simplest 
problems with which she was too proud to go to her 
regular teacher. This, however, was a pleasure to Ruth, 
for she realized the force of application and knew that 
her own mind was being enriched by what she was able 
to give to another. 

Earnest Stocklaid was also a diligent student in the 




he uttered a cry. 




c 





68 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


school, and had won for himself much honor in his class. 
It had, however, been whispered in Ruth’s ear that on 
several occasions he had been under the influence of drink 
and had made himself foolish to his own hurt before his 
fellows. 

Still he was a frequent visitor at the cottage and Marie 
seemed to have great honor for the young man and her 
maid often wondered if she were cognizant of the fact 
of his intemperance. But if she was, she wisely kept 
her own counsel and Aunt Langsford encouraged their 
friendship, looking on with approving smiles, confidently 
hoping that her niece would form an attachment for the 
brilliant young student. But so far as Ruth could de- 
tect Marie was staid and dignified in his presence, never 
giving token of any stronger affection than a warm 
friendship would warrant, and for the most part she felt 
that their social intercourse was best for Marie’s own 
sake. Her character, under this association, had seemed 
to take on a sweeter phase than she had shown before 
their acquaintance. “At least,” Ruth argued with her- 
self, “since Marie’s association with Earnest Stocklaid 
she has developed more womanly graces than she ever 
before seemed to possess,” and she, too, looked approving- 
ly upon their friendship. 

But time was rapidly passing and the day fast approach- 
ing when diplomas would be awarded and then the little 
party be free to take a post-graduate course or return to 
their own native land. This was pleasing to Ruth, for 
of late she had been growing restless and longed to once 
more set eyes upon her own dear America. Three years 
in a strange land, to one so young, seemed a very great 
while and she felt that all her life’s work fay before her 
untouched and she yearned to arise and be about her Mas- 
ter’s business. 



^0 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


The grand commencement day arrived, and the Ameri- 
can students, fifteen in number, arranged for a banquet 
to be given in honor of one who should excel the rest 
in scholarship and attainments. Here the Jew and the 
Gentile, the rich and the poor, were alike striving for an 
education and none was more brilliant or gave greater 
promise for the future than Earnest Stocklaid. On this 
day the crown was to be laid upon the heads of those who 
labored and achieved success. None seemed to reach tlie 
high eminence at greater pace than Earnest Stocklaid. 
He was to deliver the closing oration and had selected for 
his subject, “America’s Freedom.” He came before his 
class tall and manly in bearing, with a clear musical voice, 
and delivered a most masterful address, which captivated 
all hearts. Even the Germans cried: “Gut, Gut, Vivat 
Hoch fur Amerika!” while the Americans waved their 
handkerchiefs and repeated, “Long live America!” 

Marie’s cheeks burned and her eyes sparkled with de- 
light, for she experienced all the joy she could have known 
had it been she herself, that was being honored. Mr. 
Stocklaid was scarcely seated, and the deafening applause 
had not yet died away, when a beautiful cluster of flowers 
was placed in his hands with Marie’s card attached. They 
were bleeding hearts set in maiden-hair ferns and tied with 
a rose-colored ribbon. Casting a look of reverence upon 
the emblem, his eyes sought Marie’s and he tenderly 
pressed the bouquet to his lips, thus expressing in his 
admiring glance the gratitude of his heart for the beauti- 
ful thought thus shown him through the presentation of 
the token. Directly, however, a shadow flitted over his 
countenance. He was thinking of the language of the 
flower and wondered if it had been selected with any 
thought as to its meaning, or was it done simply with an 
eye to the beautiful? He stilled the throbbing of hi? 



BUCKINGHAM PALACE. LONDON. 









72 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


heart by persuading himself the latter, and at the close 
of the exercises came down to Marie’s side and begged 
to attend her to the banquet. 

Ruth had been entreated by her teacher to sing on 
this occasion, but had excused herself by saying she 
much preferred to let her voice be heard first in her owti 
native land. But she had consented to attend the exer- 
cises with him and afterward the banquet, as he was 
to be the guest of the Americans. The rich repast was 
served in regular American style, and Miss Earnestine 
presided over the tea, while wine flowed freely at her re- 
quest. Ruth’s glass, however, was turned upside down, 
and out of respect to his pupil. Professor Von Chuberg 
did not taste the beverage that night. 

They dined long and were merry. Speech after 
speech was made in the German and American tongues 
and Earnest Stocklaid had toasted his comrades in six 
different languages. But by and by, to the chagrin and 
mortification of his fellows — for “at the last it biteth like 
a serpent and stingeth like an adder” — the young man’s 
head grew dizzy and carried him over upon the floor. 
The party broke up, and the one upon whom the highest 
honors had been conferred was carried to his room in a 
disgraceful state of intoxication. 

Later, when Ruth assisted Marie to disrobe, there was 
a sad look in the young woman’s face and an occasional 
sigh. The tears would well up in her eyes, and one could 
see that remorse was doing its work in her heart. It was 
greatly to her own wonderment, for once in her life, Ruth 
failed to deliver her temperance lecture, as Marie had 
termed it, for she felt that silence was the best medicine 
for this sin-sick heart and a stronger accuser than she her- 
self could be. Thus ended her three years’ course at 
Frankfort-on-the-Main. 


CHAPTER VIIL 


THE LONDON WORKING PEOPLE IN LINE 

On the morrow Judge Earnestine was expected; he 
was coming to take them for a season to France and 
England, and from thence back to their own dear native 
land. Therefore all needed preparations were being made 
for the journey and Aunt Langsford, generally so staid 
and dignified, was flying around with her false front hair 
turned to one side, and her apron strings tied in front. 
Ruth laughed and was gay, but Marie seemed to be un- 
der a heavy cloud, and try as they would they could not 
engage her in conversation nor bring her to take any 
interest in the journey before them. 

Her maiden aunt really looked troubled and ventured 
to hint that she was grieving over leaving Mr. Stocklaid 
behind, which her niece most vehemently denied, saying 
she should be glad to put the ocean between them. 

Aunt Langsford smiled and concluded her words were 
only a phrase of maidenly modesty. But Ruth thought 
“Words are cheap when a heart is full of grief.” She could 
understand the mood more clearly than the aunt, who 
as yet did not know the real cause of Marie’s silence. As 
soon as the two were alone Ruth, with her warm, affec- 
tionate nature, gently put her arms around Marie and 
kissed her, whispering as she did so, “Never mind, dearie, 
all youthful clouds, I have been told, have silver linings, 
and perhaps yours may be lined with gold. Just wait 
until Judge Earnestine comes and see how quickly he will 
chase away the blues.” 

Marie wondered in her heart if Ruth mistrusted why 


74 


RUTH AND MARIEL 


she was downcast. But shame kept her from confiding 
the truth, and hence both maid and mistress avoided 
touching upon the unpleasantness of the previous even- 
ing, or mentioning the name of Earnest Stocklaid. 

With Ruth’s keen perception, however, she did not need 
to be told the cause of the young lady’s mood, for the very 
nature of her social existence for the past three years 
could but reveal her attachment to the young man. and 
guilty or not of his downfall, she must certainly feel a 
sense of humiliation for his weakness. At last the day 
came to a close and the family retired, but Marie tossed 
upon her bed and sleep could not be coaxed to enfold her 
’neath its wings of forgetfulness. Whatever of remorse 
or of self-accusation she felt, it was between herself and 
God, whom she did not know nor care to serve. 

At last the morning broke and daylight came creeping 
in. Marie arose and seated herself at her desk to write. 
Ruth was conscious of her doings, but chose rather to 
be ignorant for conscience’s sake and let her work out her 
own destiny as the All Wise intends we shall. 

Once, twice she dipped her pen, putting her thoughts 
upon the paper, and then not satisfied with the result she 
wrote again. At last she had fashioned something to suit 
her, and, closing the envelope, she addressed it to Earnest 
Stocklaid. 

Answering the early postman’s ring, she put the letter, 
with a piece of money, into his hand and bade him deliver 
the message at once. “Take care,” she said, “it must be 
delivered within the hour or it will be of no avail.” 

Ruth longed to know the contents of that note, but 
could not yet for many months. If she could have seen 
the poor bowed head and touched with sympathy the ach- 
ing heart of Earnest Stocklaid when he read that morning: 
“We shall go to-morrow, but do not try to see me or to 










76 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


say good-bye for I feel that you have forfeited my love, 
inasmuch as you have debased your manhood and lost 
your own self-respect,” she would have been glad she was 
spared the regret of such an hour. 

The morning had dawned dark and lowery and the 
rain came down in a slow drizzle, making drowsy nature 
look drowsier still, and the day seemed duller to the young 
women than the day before. At last the hour had arrived 
when Judge Earnestine should arrive. Marie began to 
awaken and a sense of her responsibility dawned upon 
her. She arose and began to make preparations for his 
reception. She flew to the dressing case and took one 
peep into the mirror. Her face looked more womanly 
now than when her father had said good-bye three years 
before. She stroked her waves of auburn hair that lay 
regularly upon her brow, straightened the knot at her 
throat, drew the window shades to -throw the most cheer- 
ful glow of light upon the room, and then sat down to 
await the arrival of the carriage. A long time it seemed 
to her, but at last it drove in sight and directly paused 
before the gate. The door was opened and a tall, thin 
man stepped out. Marie started back; could that be her 
father? Yes, sure enough, it was Judge Earnestine; but 
how changed he was! What could be the matter with 
him? Flying to the door, she wound her arms about him 
and wept for joy, saying: “Oh, papa! how glad I am to 
see you again ! But do tell me, beloved, what is the matter 
with you — you are so very thin and pale? Have those 
Turks been starving you in prison,, or has the Russian 
bear set his paw down upon you?” 

The father laughed at the witticism and made a grimace 
at the troubled look upon the face of his child, but to allay 
her fears, he replied: “Neither one, my daughter, your 


) 





78 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


papa is getting old ; that is all. Three-score years and ten 
should be crowned with old age; should it not?” 

Marie caressed his thin cheek and replied: “Ay, father, 
but age should not take the healthful glow from your face. 
You once looked so robust.” 

Aunt Langsford and Ruth stood waiting to give hkn 
their welcome, and tell how glad they were to have him 
with them once more. 

After his sister, he took Ruth’s hand in his own and 
gazed intently into her face. And then as if he had 
awakened from a dream said: “Bless me, Ruth! can this 
be you? Indeed 1 do not think I ever saw you before.” 
Ruth smiled meaningly, and replied: “I am sure you 
never knew me. Judge Earnestine, even if you have seen 
me. I trust that we may become better acquainted in the 
days to come, and that you will learn to think kindly of 
me in life, for I shall try to bring happiness and comfort 
to your beloved daughter.” 

Something like chagrin flitted over the face of the re- 
nowned man, and in the breadth of a thought he tried to 
remember what he had ever done during the years that 
this gentle girl had been in his daughter’s employ to make 
her life brighter, happier or better. He had spoken truly 
when he said, “I do not think I ever knew you.” And this 
was indeed the first time in his life that he had ever looked 
at her with more than a passing thought. 

The Judge made a few words of inquiry about his 
daughter’s plans, about her future movements, and then 
admonished her to make her stay short in France ani 
England as his physician had warned him to hasten home 
to America. 

Marie’s face assumed a troubled expression, and she 
said: “Dear papa, I am willing to forego any pleasure 
that I may have anticipated, and we will go directly home.” 



PROCESSION OF MATCH-MAKERS. 



80 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


Her father’s face expressed pleasure at this evidence ol 
self-denial; for he remembered how in earlier life such 
a spirit of sacrifice was to her unknown. It gave him 
satisfaction to know that she was changed, and he kindly 
thanked her. 

Marking her wonderful improvement since they last 
met, his eyes tenderly and admiringly followed her about 
the room. Her face seemed to him more classical and her 
movements more graceful than he had ever hoped they 
could be. He complimented her attainments and ex- 
pressed joy at the prospect of a speedy return home, at 
which time he would then have them with him. On the 
morrow they were to start on their journey homeward. 
Taking a carriage, they were driven to the dock, then 
boarded a steamer bound for America. Just as they had 
alighted from the carriage, Ruth saw, standing back and 
apart from the others. Earnest Stocklaid with a sad, pale 
face that told of an aching heart within his breast. She 
gave him a pleasant smile of recognition and gently 
waved good-bye. A look of gratitude was plainly de- 
picted upon his face and Ruth looked to see if Marie was 
cognizant of the fact that he was there. To all appearance 
she was pleasantly chatting with her father and had not 
seen him. The boat steamed out. 

The voyage was most tempestuous. Judge Earnestine 
was very poorly all the way, and they concluded to spend 
a little time in London to give him a chance to recuperate 
* and to gather strength for the long voyage to America. 

Ruth was delighted with the plan, for, taking up a 
morning paper, she had read of the great parade to be 
made that day in the streets of London by the labor 
organizations. Being desirous of comparing such 
demonstration with those of her own country, she was 
most eager to see the display. Much to her delight, she 


THE LONDON WORKING PEOPLE IN LINE. 


81 


found that the procession was to pass through the very 
street upon which their hotel was situated and that without 
trouble she could have a fair view of that body of people. 
It was three o’clock in the afternoon before that immense 
procession of men, yes, and women too (for the English 
women marched in train with their brothers), had reached 
the street where she could see them. For two hours the 
stream of life kept moving on with its steady tread. 

The line of march was many miles in length. It wound 
in and out and round about the streets of London, as 
indifferent to the remarks hurled at it by the gentry as 
that old leviathan described of God in ‘the forty-first chap- 
ter of Job. 

Ruth stood upon the balcony of the hotel and looked 
down with moistened eyes upon this labor procession of 
London. She noted the air of gaunt misery that was 
depicted upon the faces of this mass of humanity. She saw 
the haggard and helpless expression upon the faces of the 
men; she saw the starved, pinched and suffering coun- 
tenances of women who marched tramp ! tramp! to music; 
she saw some with infants tugging at the breast; she saw 
others who had little children at their side with bleeding 
feet; and she felt that American working men and women 
had not yet begun to learn the meaning of poverty. 

Marie stood by her side and heard the comments of the 
better class as they looked down and criticized that body 
of lacerated souls ; she saw the scornful look upon the face 
of the wealthy, as they sat in their elegant carriages, which 
were manned and equipped with servants; heard the 
biting, jeering words that were hurled after them from the 
rabble below, and unconsciously, as though fear had 
taken hold upon her, she slipped her hand into Ruth’s, 
whose heart was just bursting with pity and compassion 
for those down trodden masses. Ruth mistaking the 


82 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


girl’s act for love, said to her: “Oh, how my soul burns 
within me to go down among them and put life in their 
souls, to embue them with strength to rise above the bonds 
of oppression. If God is for, who can be against?” 

Meirie proudly raised her head, while very scorn was 
depicted upon her countenance as she listened to the words 
of Ruth so eagerly spoken, and uttered: “How can you? 
I would scorn to tread where their feet have pressed. It 
is strange to me, Ruth, that you who in many things are 
noble, should sympathize with this howling multitude.” 
Ruth bit her lip, and hard lines which were not often seen 
set about her moiith, as she replied in tones that were 
pitiful in the extreme: “Yes, it is strange; but the blessed 
Lord Jesus, who came into the world to seek and to save 
that which was lost, came for such as these. And it is 
not strange to me as to you that his great divine love for 
humanity can find lodgment in my own heart and make 
me love them too.” Then changing her voice until it rang, 
she said: “Do you scorn those people? I can not but feel 
that unless you are greatly changed and repent toward 
God and permit His gentle spirit to come into your heart, 
filling it with a tenderer compassion for humanity, the time 
will come in eternity when you, like the rich man in hell 
who looked up and saw Lazarus in Abraham’s bosom, 
will also look up and behold these downtrodden and 
poor of the world embraced in the bosom of our Lord, 
while you, like they now are, will be languishing in outer 
darkness.” Marie locked her maid steadfastly in the eye. 
“Ruth,” she said, “your words have in them a terrible 
meaning. Do you think that I am so greatly in the 
wrong? Can there be need of such poverty and indigency 
as this in the world? Tell me, how can I become what 
you so much desire me to be? I am sure I am not willfuliy 
in the wrong.” 


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FATHER MATHEW AND POOR DADDY MATHEW 







84 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


Ruth’s eyes moistened with tears and she replied: 
“Dear Miss Earnestine, ask for help and you will be led 
into that beautiful life where you can see and love all 
humanity. There certainly is not any need of such a 
wretched state of existence as we here behold, and in tha^ 
respect you are quite right. But, dear girl, pause and 
think, what makes this woe? Every creature has a 
Creator, but did God create such misery as this in the 
world? Ah, no! A thousand times, no! God wills that 
peace and plenty shall rain down upon his people. God’s 
will is that every soul shall be happy in Him. But it is 
man who has wrought this evil and cursed the generations. 
The saloon, the brothel, the den — places where all iniquity 
abound — are the devices of men. Man’s avarice and greed 
for gold have led him to make merchandise of the people 
and these are they that are sold into bondage and death 
that men may grow rich!’’ 

And then coming the nearest to heartlessness that she 
had ever done, Ruth said; “Even the wealthy and beauti- 
ful daughters of the world, in pursuit of earthly pleasure, 
will insist upon the use of wine to the injury of their fel- 
lows. Oftentimes the fall begins at the mansion. The vic- 
tims of the wine cup who are taught by fair woman’s hand 
to love the beverage, drop lower and lower and eventually 
become the slums of society.” 

Marie’s face turned pale and she staggered backward 
and sank into a chair. Ruth’s sword had cut deeper than 
she knew, and the hot tears were rolling down her cheek. 
Ruth, whose very name was pity and tenderness, gathered 
the hurt one to her bosom, put a loving kiss upon her 
brow, and said : “I have no more fear of you.” At length 
‘ Marie rose and taking the hand of her maid, said: “Dear 
Ruth, you are a savage in your thrusts, but I confess I 
have deserved it all and will try in the future to profit by 


THE LONDON WORKING PEOPLE IN LINE. 


85 


your rebuke. Come, now, let us go in, for I am weary of 
looking upon this scene.” 

As they turned to go, they saw Judge Earnestine stand- 
ing at their side. He had been cognizant of the whole 
conversation. Ruth smiled pleasantly at him, and as they 
passed on she heard him exclaim to his daughter: “Vae 
victis! Marie, is it always so when you and your maid 
hold a controversy?” 

“Yes, father mine, our Ruth is a dagger of truth and 
she cuts deep, but her setting is of jewels most rare.” 

The two laughed heartily; but Ruth knew that under- 
neath the mantle of gaiety was a conscience that was 
hurting and a remorse that would burn on for many a 
day. 

The reader may search in vain for such a character in 
the everyday waiting maid so commonly employed by the 
world, but we would pause to say in defense of the true ob- 
ject of this character that it has not been our purpose so 
much to show a working girl as we so commonly find her, 
but to set forth the possibilities within the reach of any and 
every wage earner. No girl is menial or ignorant simply 
because she is a wage earner. Labor is the most essential 
factor in the combination of life. Without labor the physi- 
cal man can never be fully developed, and true nobility 
can never be degraded by labor. If one be inclined to 
degradation, he will be base and ignorant in the possession 
of wealth just as quickly as in poverty. 

Ruth Mansfield was a woman born, and no matter what 
her calling in life had been, she could never have been 
menial. And had Marie inherited a nobler spirit she 
would have feared to do violence to the feelings of one 
so gifted and beautiful in spirit as Ruth. As it was, much 
of her unkindness and dogmatism was due to her own 
ignorance and the want of Christian culture in her heart. 


86 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


She had grown to believe that only the rich were deserving 
of consideration. Notwithstanding all that, she bore in 
her heart a deep, warm, loving thought for Ruth, who had 
so sweetly mastered her will on so many different occasions 
and made her feel that her office was more of a companion 
than a maid. Ruth could not see that Marie was thinking 
of the past, so she breathed an earnest prayer, then left 
her with God. She thought: “It is but right that every 
soul should consider their own misdeeds, and the punish- 
ment should be to them alone.” 

A few days of rest in smoky London, and Judge Earn- 
estine announced that he was ready to sail to America. 
Somehow, Ruth, who had been watching him closely 
during the last few days, felt a misgiving, for she greatly 
feared he would not be able to stand the journey home. 
But whatever his physical suffering or the thought of his 
heart, he kept his own counsel and spared his daughter 
grave fears until he was carefully ensconced in his own 
room with the great steamship headed for America and 
home. Then, calling the family group together, with an 
especial request for Ruth, he calmly spoke of his fears of 
death and told them that he might not live to reach New 
York. 

His words to Marie were replete with fatherly tender- 
ness and he commended her to the mercy of the world, 
saying: “My fortune will be yours, and it will serve you, 
as it has your father, better than earthly friends.” 

Then turning to Ruth, he said: “Miss Mansfield (and 
his voice had a ring that told in what high esteem she 
was held) you have been kind to my daughter in the 
days gone by; will you still be her friend when I am 
gone?” 

Ruth took his hand and replied: “Yes, Judge Earn- 
estine, I will be her friend ” A look of happy trust came 



IN THE STREETS OF LONDON 






88 


KUTH AND MAKIE. 


into the man’s eyes, and without another word he joined 
their hands and then merged into unconsciousness. He 
was very ill. 

This was a great shock to Marie, who all her life had 
been shielded from saddening scenes. Now the thought 
of parting with her beloved father in death was almost all 
her sorrowing heart could bear. Ruth, strong in heart and 
true, equal to any task, set about with the zeal of a pro- 
fessional to nurse the man back to life, with the hope that 
he might at least be spared to die beneath his own roof. 
The doctor was faithful in his attentions, scarcely leaving 
the bedside of the sufYering man, encouraging as best he 
could, giving hope and comfort to the af¥ectionate daugh- 
ter, who felt she could not bear the separation from her 
father. She knew too well that all earthly love and skill 
are like a feeble zephyr; when God’s messenger puts 
forth his hand and touches humanity with the icy fingers 
of death. That soul must go. 

All day Ruth had sat by the bedside speaking from 
time to time in earnest solicitation for the welfare of a 
soul. But try as she would, she had not yet been able to 
fasten a single thought or to bring the man to see the 
dark yawning of eternity before him. But at last when 
she was almost discouraged and thought her efforts vain, 
she filled with joy to have him turn his pale face toward 
her with a look that seemed as though spiritual reason 
had come at last, and say: “Ruth, if my soul is lost I 
shall not be able to stand at the judgment bar of God and 
accuse you of having failed in your duty as an embassador 
for Christ. You have most faithfully done your duty in 
trying to show me the way of salvation. But (and upon his 
face was depicted most eager anxiety) I have lived almost 
seventy-four years in indifference. Think you there is 
hope for me now?” 



AN AFTERNOON IN THE PARKS. 


90 


RUTH AND MAKID. 


“Ah, yes, sir! There is hope so long as there is life. 
Christ hath said: ‘Whosoever conieth unto me, I will in 
no wise cast out’ Does not that ‘whosoever’ cover your 
case? God is gracious to bestow salvation and not willing 
to cut off any from eternal life.” 

The ship was just entering New York harbor as the 
dying man lay there saying over and over again, “Whoso- 
ever,” “Whosoever.” It came faint and fainter still as the 
man’s soul seemed trying to grasp the hand of Him who 
hath said “Whosoever,” seemingly unconscious that a 
woman with a burdened heart was praying for salvation 
to come to him in his dying hour. 

“Whosoever” was once more audible to listening ears. 
A shiver passed over his frame and the millionaire lay 
dead. 

Ruth closed her Bible, and taking Marie, who lay with 
her face buried in the bosom of her dead, gently led her 
away amid sobs and moans such as are known only to 
those who have not a Christian hope. Marie gasped for 
breath and held out her hands, while one could see that 
within her soul was a mute appeal to a something greater, 
something beyond herself. Pillowing the head of the be- 
reaved child upon her bosom, Ruth whispered: “Dear 
one, my heart aches for you, but there is but one Com- 
forter for human woes. Look unto Jesus, and He will 
help you.” 

It was a gloomy journey to them from New York to 
San Francisco. In the palace car sat Marie Earnestine in 
deep grief as she was whirled across the continent with the 
body of her dead. And gloomier still was that procession 
that mounted Nob Hill following the silent form of their 
beloved, who was to be buried from his own palatial home. 

The ripened leaves from the trees in autumn fall to 
the earth having fulfilled their mission here. They fall 


THE LONDON WORKING PEOPLE IN LINE. 


91 


to rest upon the earth. So it is with man. The body, 
like a ripened husk, must break loose from the soul, the 
spirit must go out into the hereafter and the body goes 
to its own — the dust. The reaper’s blade had cut Judge 
Earnestine down like the ripened shock and there was 
nothing left to witness for him but deeds. What were 
those deeds? Were they gentle acts of love fraught with 
human kindness? Were they seeds planted to spring and 
grow again to bear rich fruit for the master’s use. Ah, 
no. A man had lived to amass wealth. That he might 
grow rich he had increased poverty. To bring into his 
coffers that gold that w’ill become cankered, “the rust of 
which will testify against him,” he had labored to per- 
petuate the liquor curse and had trafficked in human souls. 

Yes, he had planted seeds, but the seeds of his sowing 
would grow thorns instead of flowers upon his grave. 
Life on earth is a real earnest of the world to come; and 
when we pause at the end of that life and look into the 
black, yawning grave before us, we are willing to say in all 
wisdom that the evil deeds committed during one’s life 
are not half so black as at one’s death. 




INTERIOR OF THE EARNESTINE HOME. 


CHAPTER IX. 


THE FUNERAL OF JUDGE EARNESTINE. 

The remains of Judge Earnestine lay in state in the 
great drawing room ai the mansion. At the head of the 
elegant casket stood the candelabra with its waxen tapers 
lighted, and all was in readiness for the burial. The air 
was heavy with the odor of tube-roses and sweet-scented 
blossoms, and the friends of the deceased, with mournful 
tread, were gathering in the room. 

Father Hachilah, from St. Mary’s Cathedral, was there 
in clerical robes to perform the funeral rites; and a deep 
solemnity seemed to have settled down upon the assembly. 

Marie, with her kinsfolks, sat sorrowfully at the feet of 
her dead and sobbed most piteously as she listened to the 
deep, solemn tones of the priest while he held high mass 
over the body whose spirit had gone out to meet its God. 

Ruth stood apart with the group of family servants, with 
bowed head and reverent spirit, while she listened to the 
good man who officiated. It was the first time in her life 
that she had been present at a funeral where the rites 
were observed after the manner of this sect, and in some 
ways she was deeply impressed with the service to-day. 
But yet, she could not qujte harmonize her faith with the 
thought of offering prayers on earth for those who had 
gone to the spirit land. But then, she could not tell. 
God’s word was very deep and wonderfully mysterious. 
She quoted the ninth verse of the first chapter of Joel : “The 
meat offering and drink offering are cut off from the house 
of the Lord; the priests, the Lord’s ministers, mourn.” 
And again in the fourteenth verse of the second chapter: 


94 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


“Who knoweth if he will return and repent and leave a 
blessing, behind him, even a meat offering and a drink 
offering unto the house of the Lord your God? ” Most 
surely the blessed God had left the way open for repent- 
ance, even unto the returning. And while she could not 
see just how it could be, yet she felt that the last inquiry 
of the man as he lay dying trying to grasp through faith 
the hand of him who said “Whosoever,” was in harmony 
with His saying: “To-day thou shalt be with me in para- 
dise.” And she, too, in this auspicious moment, found 
herself praying for the dead. 

Marie had seen her beloved parent tenderly laid away 
in the grave, and then found herself standing alone, sole 
heir and possessor of her father’s vast estate. What could 
she do with it? And whom could she trust with her busi- 
ness interests? Poor dear child! She had no more idea 
of how to battle with the elements in the great world of 
business than a baby. But upon careful investigation she 
found that her father, who had known that his end must 
come full soon, had so settled his affairs that her pre- 
occupation was already assumed, for which she was glad. 
Thus all that was left for her to do was to become familiar 
with her own. 

In her bereavement, she was experiencing much keen 
dread, lest Ruth, in her eager pursuit after knowledge, 
would conceive the thought of leaving her employ for 
other and higher calling. She even feared to mention it 
lest she should hasten her day of departure, but was silent 
and cautious as to her behavior, so as not to grieve or 
estrange the girl’s heart from her. And yet with all this 
foreboding hanging over her, she never for one moment 
let down the line that divided the aristocracy from the 
people, or said to the girl (what she truly felt in her heart) 
that Ruth was her superior in intellect and a better com- 




96 


RUTH AND MARIU. 


panion than a servant. However, Ruth noted a change 
in Marie since the death of her father. She was not so 
austere and ironical as heretofore, and the responsibility 
of looking after the estate oftener brought her into council 
with her helpers and a better spirit of patience was mani- 
fested than in times gone by. Yet there were times when 
that old spirit of haughtiness would return, and, in con- 
trast with her better self, would make her appear even 
worse than it had in other days. At such times Ruth 
would smile and say: ‘‘Better not have any reputation 
for goodness than to have periodical spells of badness.” 

So long as the sun shines on in tranquillity, throwing 
its even and placid rays upon the earth, we never glance 
toward it with a suspicious thought or doubt its loyalty 
to the beautiful world over which it shines, and man has 
no occasion to distrust its all-powerful influence for good 
upon the earth. But let a spot appear upon the sun, and 
the whole united kingdom of men will stand with smoked 
glass in their hand watching that spot. Just so it is with 
the character of man. The error of the moral man, the 
occasional stepping away from correct habits by those 
professing goodness, the sins committed by the professing 
Christian (such as the yielding to fits of temper by Marie) 
were like spots on the sun — known and seen of all men. 
And it is by the “spots” upon our character that we are 
judged of men. For God alone puts the good in the 
balance with evil to see which will outweigh in the char- 
acter of his children. Ruth prayed earnestly for Marie’s 
conversion, for she felt that nothing but true religion 
and the spirit of Christ could change her heart or remove 
the “spots” from her otherwise beautiful character. 

Jeremiah, in his description of a changed life, very 
beautifully expresses the thought of an individual after 
he has ceased from evil and given himself to good where 



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FUNERAL OF JUDGE EARNESTINE. 


99 


he says: “Surely after I was turned, I repented. I smote 
upon my thigh; I was ashamed, yea, even confounded 
because I did bear the reproach of my youth.” 

From the day Ruth Mansfield came into the service of 
this aristocratic family she had measured Marie’s true 
worth, and had been praying that the girl might be 
changed and brought to repentance where she could 
know experimentally the testimony of that grand old 
prophet and experience a Savior’s love, which would so 
beautify her life and make her a blessing to the society 
in which she moved, a blessing to the home in which she 
lived. 

She prayed, trusting that ere long she should hear the 
glad news that salvation, the free gift of God, had come 
to the young mistress of the Palace Earnestine. 

Shortly after the death of her father, the Sisters of 
Charity had called upon Marie and earnestly besought 
her to come into the church with which her people had 
been identified. But her life of worldliness and the train- 
ing of her childhood had been such as to have a tendency 
to harden her young heart, and she treated her visitors 
with a most indifferent spirit, for which Ruth was sorry, 
and said: “Dear Miss Earnestine, I am not a Catholic, 
yet I believe that any religion that has the blessed Lord 
Jesus in it has Christ enough to save a soul. You had bet- 
ter consider carefully the purpose of these good women 
and weigh their desire to do you good before you dismiss 
from your thoughts the object for which they come.” 

Marie looked steadfastly at her while she spoke and then 
in all candor replied: “I am glad that you are so frank 
with me, dear Ruth, for it makes me free to express the 
thoughts of my heart. I have often wished that I might be 
associated with some sect or religious society where I 
could know and be known with good people; but when 
Lore. 


100 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


T compare your code of morals with the habits of my 
life I can not see what gopd thing there would be left for 
me to enjoy should I forsake all pleasure and become as 
you are. I would rather belong to the world than be a 
hypocrite and profess to be good before men and in my 
heart love sin.” 

Ruth smiled sweetly and said: “You are quite right, 
Miss Earnestine, in your sentiments regarding the true 
way for a Christian to live, but there is a wide difference 
in the government and discipline of these two sects — the 
Catholic and Protestant religions. The Evangelical 
Protestant churches do not approve of worldly amuse- 
ments or of the use of wine and strong drink as a bever- 
age, and their members who do these things are excom- 
municated from the church and counted by that body to 
be in a lost and fallen state. But with the Roman Cath- 
olic Church the matter of heart purity is left with the 
individual and his God, since the great heads of the church 
have not thought it wise to cut off any for indulgence in 
worldly pleasure. It does not matter what the creed 
says, soul purity is a privilege that all may enjoy, and I 
urge you to seek God while He may be found, and if 
these dear Sisters come to you again I pray you be kind 
to them at least.” The tears then welled up in her eyes 
and she continued : “Dear Miss Earnestine, I have prayed 
so long for you; how it would rejoice my heart to know 
that you would put your influence on the right side.” 
Marie sat for a moment with downcast eyes, as if lost in 
thought, and then looked her maid full in the face and 
said: “Ruth, if ever I become a Christian, I shall certain- 
ly unite with the Catholic Church. Would you pray for 
me as a Catholic or would you hate me?” 

Ruth smiled at the frank honesty of the girl, and 
throwing her arms about her neck exclaimed: “Hate 


FUNERAL OF JUDGE EARNESTINE. 


101 


you, dear! What for? Simply because you had united 
with the church of your choice? Ah, no! my precious 
friend, I would love you for having had the courage of 
your convictions. There is nothing in an earthly name. 
There is but one name given under heaven, and among 
men, whereby we may be saved, and that is the name of 
Jesus.’ Take that precious name with you into your 
church, your business and your life, and it matters not 
what the sect may be; where Jesus is, there is salvation. 

I repeat it, there is nothing in a name, and it matters not 
whether it be Catholic or Protestant, ‘Christ is the be- 
ginning and the end of the law to every one that believ- 
eth.’ There is but one God, one Law Giver, and ‘Who- 
soever will walk in the light, as Christ is in the light, verily 
he shall be saved.’ ” 

The time wore on and stretched out into weeks and • 
months and each day seemed to bind these two girls more 
closely together. Different in temperament, different in 
tastes and different in habits, and even in their social stand- 
ing, yet like the “fern to be,” their life lines ran parallel with 
each other and each seemed necessary to the other’s 
happiness. 

It has been said that “prejudice is the meanest trait of 
the human character,” and it is even so. Prejudice is one 
of the devil’s best agencies to dwarf a human soul. It 
shuts the door to reason, warps and twists the imagina- 
tion, makes bigots and fools out of intellects which God 
has created for His glory and to be a blessing to the 
world. It has been said that “The worlds do move,” and 
if that be true, and human progress is not a myth, then 
the time has come when, as exemplified in the lives of 
Ruth and Marie, there should be a growing together 
of the Protestant and Catholic Churches and God’s people 
should be united in holy unity and truth. 


102 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


The milleninm day will^be dawning 
When the saints from near and from far 

Are united in holy unity and love. 

And cease from vain striving and war. 

Yes, the millenium day will be dawning. 

How sweetly, how gently, it will come! 

God hasten the beautiful morning 
When Christ and His people are one. 

Oh, tell us, kind friend of the Master, 

Who came so lowly and meek. 

Cradled by Mary in the manger. 

And taught by all wisdom to speak. 

The truth from the father who sent Him, 

The wonderful gospel of God; 

Are not the Protestant and Catholic religions 
Both built on His excellent word? 

How fervently Ruth Mansfield longed to see Marie 
brought into the kingdom ! It mattered not to her under 
what schism she was baptized only so her feet were plant- 
ed upon the foundation, “The Rock Christ Jesus, Our 
Lord.” 





BROOKLYN BRIDGE. 







CHAPTER X. 


RUTH’S JUSTIFICATION OF THE PEOPLE. 

Time has sped on and one more decade has gone down 
in the chain of years since Ruth Mansfield first went into 
service; and wonderful years, too, these have been to her 
who from first to last has maintained her own individuality 
and inextinguishable character. 

At all times and in all places she has striven to hold 
Labor on an equality with Capital, and has stood by her 
principles even as Jonathan stood by David in indissoluble 
unity. 

Now as we return to the scene in our opening chapter, 
we cast at her more than a passing glance of admiration, 
for the fame of her has gone abroad and her noble spirit 
seems towering up like King Saul, head and shoulders 
above other women of the world. 

The bell had rung and the passengers arose to go on 
shore before Marie again spoke. At length she arose 
and came and stood by the side of her maid, who con- 
tinued to be interested in her book, and said to her: 
“Dear Ruth, since we last spoke, I have been trying to put 
myself in your place and think about the things in which 
you are interested, as you think and argue ; and I confess 
to you that I can see that the cause of Labor, in a meas- 
ure, is a just cause, and I do not wonder at the general 
uprising on the part of wage earners. But then, you see, 
I belong to the side of Capital, and were I to agree with 
your arguments at all times, it would seem foolish, since 
I can not in any way help the cause.” 

Ruth arose to her feet and her great dark eyes looked 


j06 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


most pleadingly as she replied: “Oh, yes, you can do 
something to help on the work of reform. The world is 
waiting for just such a one as you to come forward and, 
in the name of a righteous God, so invest your money that 
the working people may be lifted up instead of being 
oppressed. Dedicate your millions to the cause of Labor 
and engage in some enterprise that will give the working 
men and women a chance with you to earn their share of 
the profits accruing from the business. 

“When the laborer can feel that he is a partner in the 
enterprise for which he works, we shall not any longer 
hear him caviling about long hours, over-time, and all this 
lament about decreased wages will be forever at an end. 

“If you could bring yourself to enter into such a com- 
pact with the poor, you might become great in the eyes 
of the people and God would bless such a noble endeavor 
on your part, and your example would go out over the 
world like an angel of love and lead other capitalists to 
do likewise.’’ 

While Ruth was thus speaking the two had passed from 
the boat and were now taking their seats in the elegant 
carriage that stood in waiting for them, with a liveried 
coachman in the box. The face of the mistress had been 
assuming a cold, hard look, which forbade the continua- 
tion of this appeal in behalf of the^ labor reform. While 
the carriage thus stood in waiting for the multitudinous 
throng to pass out of the way, Ruth, not willing to let this 
opportunity go without clinching the argument, bent 
forward, and taking Marie’s hand in her own, said: “I 
pray you do let me talk to you. Miss Earnestine, for God 
has given me the thought and I am persuaded that were 
you to invest your life and money for humanity’s sake 
you would never have cause to regret it; no, not while 
you live in this world. And in the world to come, you 


RUTH’S JUSTIFICATION OF THE PEOPLE. 


107 


could look back upon the earth and see countless millions 
rising up to call you blessed for what you may do for the 
comfort and elevation of the laboring classes.” 

Withdrawing her hand from the tender clasp of her 
maid, she said: “Ruth! Why do you so incessantly 
harass me with such thoughts? Such fanaticism is al- 
most unbearable! I wish that I had not spoken to you 
kindly upon the subject. I simply thought to redeem 
myself for ill temper and make you happy by an apology, 
but you never do take things like other people.” The 
coachman put his head in for orders, and Marie answered 
him in tones such as one might use in speaking to a dog: 
“Home!” she said, “and be quick about it, too, for I am 
tired of discords and want the seclusion of my own room.” 
The young man caught the grieved expression upon 
Ruth’s face, and he thought, as he mounted the box and 
gave his whip a crack, what a different spirit hers was 
and what it would do for the household if she could only 
change places with the rich Miss Earnestine. 

The concomitant relationship of these two young 
women thus conjoined together was and ever had been, 
to Ruth, most uncongenial; and at this moment as she 
looked into the face of her who sat opposite and thought 
of the ifascibility of her nature, and knew that the young 
lady’s conduct was thus provoked by her own tender plea 
for humanity, she thought her most unlovely and wished 
that the very Christ, who so immutably helped her to 
keep in a spirit of gentleness, would come into Marie’s 
heart and make her what she wished to be thought — a 
gentlewoman, indeed. The two did not again speak until 
they had driven to their own door. The better spirit hav- 
ing again gotten the mastery in Miss Earnestine’s heart, 
she took Ruth’s arm as they mounted the marble steps 
together, and said: “Forgive me, dear Ruth, for my 


108 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


seeming rudeness. I am quite ashamed when I think of 
my hot temper. You have ever shown such gentleness 
and forbearance with me and I do so oft and repeatedly 
let you see the worst side of my nature that I feel quite 
humiliated to-day.” 

Ruth accepted the apology and gently kissed the lips 
that were put up to meet her own. But at the same time 
she had during her ten years’ sojourn with this untamed, 
naughty spirit, learned how to value such words; and 
they, with many others uttered under similar circum- 
stances, were weighed accordingly. When it comes to 
the point of touching the gold of capitalists, we find, as 
Ruth now found, that the tongue often gets sadly out 
of tune with the heart, for avarice and greed are the ruling 
powers that hold sway over such a one. “You see,” con- 
tinued Marie, as soon as her wrappings were removed, 
“since papa’s death I am constantly in fear that some one 
is trying to rob me of my fortune, and my sheer ignorance 
pertaining to business made me angry with you. The 
mere suggestion of any one that I make investment of 
capital is a source of alarm to me; for, with my lack of 
knowledge pertaining to business, I feel very sure that I 
would make a failure of whatever I might undertake.” 

“But, Miss Earnestine, it is your privilege to know. 
God has endowed you with intelligence and given you 
opportunity above many of your fellows. What have you 
been doing with your good chance in the world? Did 
you not expect to be left some day with the fortune upon 
your hands? And do you not know that the world is 
full of ravenous wolves that stand like a pair of hungry 
jaws to swallow you up with all you have? How can 
you expect to hold and control that which you are now 
possessed of unless you are master of the situation? My 
dear girl, you had better apply yourself to know wisdom 


RUTH’S JUSTIFICATION OF THE PEOPLE. 


109 


and cultivate a spirit of independence if you ever hope to 
succeed in life, for gold without knowledge is a snare 
and a delusion that will only lead you into greater depths 
of unrest Very soon I must leave you in pursuit of 
another calling which I have chosen, and I tremble for 
your future if you continue in this indolent way in which 
you have lived ever since I first knew you.” 

Marie burst into tears, and throwing her arms about 
her maid, exclaimed: “Oh, Ruth! Do not say such a 
dreadful thing, you who have ever been so kind to me! 
How can I do without you upon whom I have so long 
depended? Promise me, dear, that you will not leave 
my employ until I am settled in life with a. companion 
who will be better able to counsel me than you have been.” 

“No, Marie, I can not promise you that, for I feel that 
God is calling me out into the work of reform and I 
must go; for unless we can in some way bring about 
a peaceful arbitration between Capital and Labor, I would 
not give much for your fortune in a few years from now. 
The work of ramification, under the direction of strongly 
organized bodies, has already begun, and these people 
of our country who are at war with Capital, will not care 
any more for your interests in a little time than you now 
care for their comfort and happiness.” 

“But, Ruth, it is often the profligacy of the lower classes 
that has brought them to poverty and want, and not the 
oppression of Capital.” 

“That is true, Marie, but men, like sheep, have gone 
astray, and not being willing to be led by our nation’s 
counselors, are preparing, by physical force, to bring 
about a better adjustment of things, and the wage worker 
and American can no longer remain oblivious to the 
fact.” 

Marie’s cheeks blanched at the girl’s words so earnest- 


110 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


ly Spoken, and she sank into a chair by her side. At 
length she said: “Dear Ruth, I had grown to think that 
your life and mine were inseparable, but somehow your 
words have in them a foreboding which falls like a weight 
upon my soul.” 

Then clasping her hands together, she continued: “May 
the good God in whom you so fervently trust prevent such 
a calamity as you suggest to the capitalists of the country, 
and especially to me — a poor helpless woman !” 

A satisfied look rested upon Ruth’s face when she heard 
Marie quote from holy writ: “When thou wast in trou- 
ble, thou didst call on me.” In her response she said: 
“Marie, this is the first time in all these ten years that I 
have been with you that I have ever heard you reverent- 
ly call upon the name of the Lord. Do you know, that 
in my soul I desire to see this revolution which is just 
now beginning to roll over the land come hastening on, 
for when it is well upon us it will send more capitalists than 
yourself trembling to investigate the situation. It is the 
world-wide boast of America that ours is a Christian na- 
tion. Why! right here in San Francisco, this boasted 
city of the Pacific slope, the population is increasing 
twenty-two times as fast as the church of God, while prin- 
cipalities and powers of darkness reign in the hearts of 
the unchurched masses. 

“Much of this degeneracy on the Pacific Coast can be 
charged up to Capital, whose spoiliation of the poor is 
perpetuated through the wine industry, and is crowding 
the masses down and out and raising such a barrier be- 
tween the people that it were not possible for the poor 
to find intromission into any circle of wealth. Can you 
wonder, Marie, that Labor is mad? Will you wonder 
when you see the uprising of the unchurched masses and 
suffer their rebellion against the rum power?” 


RUTH’S JUSTIFICATION OP THE PEOPLE. 


Ill 


A cynical smile rested upon Marie’s countenance as 
she replied: “I do not see why men should rebel against 
the power that is enthroned and perpetuated by their own 
hand. The traffic in ardent spirits could not live were 
it not supported by the laboring classes! Why should 
you blame men for being capitalists when they are made 
so by the free consent of the people?” 

“Yes, Marie, I thoroughly understand how monopolies 
are made and perpetuated; but because Labor, through 
ignorance, is willing to cast itself in chains, is 
that any reason why Capital should continue to glut 
itself upon their, strength and for gold to hazard the 
welfare of a nation and make its people menial? 
For ten years I have tried to see and argue in all kind- 
ness these points of justice to the poor. You have ever 
repulsed my arguments and steadily held the dividing 
line in your own hand that has shut me out of the wealthy 
circles of society; and only just so far as I have been able 
to minister unto your pleasure and profit, have I been 
intromitted into the higher circles of life. You have, 
therefore, put me upon the same level socially as those 
who are menial through the use of strong drink. And 
just as it has been between yourself and myself, so it is 
to-day throughout the land between the rich and the 
poor. And I can tell you, Marie, the only prevenient 
method that will save society from disaster and bring 
about a peaceful arbitration between Capital and Labor 
will be for capitalists to acknowledge the rights of the 
people and allow purity and intelligence to be crowned 
as nobility before wealth, instead of debarring us as they 
now do from our rightful inheritance in the land. 

“Money is good and the world has always had its rich 
men and women ; even Deborah of old, who was a mother, 


112 


RtrTH AND MAHID. 


judge and deliverer of her people, was a woman of wealth. 
A Jacob, a David, a Job and a host of others lived and 
verily they did God’s service with their wealth. And to- 
day the workingman has no quarrel with Capital from 
the fact that he is a laborer, but his plea is for justice and 
equality to all men.” 

Marie arose and paced up and down the room with a 
deeper thought than had ever before taken possession of 
her gay and giddy heart. Finally she paused before her 
maid and said: “Ruth, I have never heard such argu- 
ments as yours, and while I believe you to be speaking in 
all candor, yet I can not believe that things are half as bad 
as you paint them.” 

Ruth arose and stood before the young capitalist, and 
in a strange, hushed whisper, said: “Marie, don’t you 
hear the low muttering of thunder as it rolls through the 
political world and reverberates again from ocean to 
ocean? Can’t you see the flashing of lightning in public 
sentiment? It comes with such blinding force that it 
nearly extinguishes the reasoning of men. Have you not 
seen the ramification of political parties? I tell you, 
Marie, we are just entering into one of the grandest revo- 
lutionary storms that has ever swept over the heart of 
the world. Don’t, I pray you, listen to my words, but 
look out upon our troubled land and believe that God is 
with his people.” 

. The girl’s voice had in it the power of the Spirit, which 
made deep impression upon the mind of her companion ; 
and as she continued Marie superstitiously glanced over 
her shoulder and said: “Dear Ruth, your words sound 
to me like the prophecy of old and you make me afraid. 
Come, let us change the subject, for I think I am getting 
hysteria. Take hold of me, dear, and see if I am really 


RUTH’S JUSTIFICATION OF THE PEOPLE. 


113 


myself. Somehow I feel as if I had caught your spirit 
of reform and should begin to talk for the labor reform 
myself.” 

Ruth laughed joyously and replied: “Well, dear, I 
trust that the blessed Lord who has so molded my spirit 
as to make me desire to be a revolutionist, will not only 
make your tongue to talk but will make you a reformer of 
public morals as well, and your heart to love, as mine 
does, for humanity’s sake.” 

Tears glistened in Marie’s eyes and her lips trembled 
with emotion, as she came close to Ruth’s side and laid 
her head upon her shoulder, saying: “Here I am, dear; 
teach me how to love the people as you love them and 
half my fortune shall be yours. Noble girl that you are! 
In all the years that I have known you I have yet to 
detect one single selfish act. The world, is your country 
and the poor and friendless are the first for whom you 
think. I would that God had created me with a soul like 
yours!” 

Ruth bowed her head and imprinted a kiss upon 
Marie’s brow. Maid and mistress from that moment 
stood upon the same social plane together. Love, that 
had often fallen bleeding at her feet, had at last found the 
key to Marie Earnestine’s proud heart and her face was 
turned toward humanity and God. 







CHAPTER XL 


MARIE’S CONFESSION. 

A few days after the conversation recorded in the pre- 
ceding chapter, Ruth was not a little surprised to have 
Marie, so changed and beautiful, come into her room and 
in a spirit of gentleness born of love, lean her head upon 
her bosom. Gently loving arms were twined about her 
and Ruth whispered: “What is it, Marie, dear? Can 1 
do anything for you?” 

For a moment the mistress of Palace Earnestine stood 
there with her face buried in the bosom of her maid and 
then she whispered: “Dear Ruth, I have a secret that 
I can not tell to any one but you.” The gentle pressure 
of loving arms gave her assurance, and bringing an otto- 
man, she seated herself at Ruth’s knee and for the first 
time in her life looked up into her face with that con- 
fiding trust that a little child will place in a mother, and 
began: “Ruth, help me. How can I begin to tell you 
what is upon my heart? Can I trust you?” 

Tenderly Ruth took her face between her hands and 
gently drew her to her bosom. With all Marie’s faults, 
Ruth really had for the girl a most tender affection. Now 
at this moment, when she had come so humbly suing for 
sympathy, she felt an overwhelming love stealing into 
her heart which was almost unexplainable. Winding her 
arms more tenderly about her, she replied: “Trust me, 
Marie? Of course you can trust me. Have I not ever 
and at all times been your friend?” 

“Yes, you have been my friend; but it would be easier 
for me now if you had not, for then I could feel that I 


116 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


was your equal. Now I know that when you hear my 
tale that you will in your heart despise one so weak and 
full of error. I have ever known that you were my su- 
perior, both in intellect and in pureness of heart. In m.y 
ignorance I thought to humble and keep you down by 
making you continually to feel the difference in our sta- 
tions in life. But you know, dear Ruth, that I have loved 
you, else long ago I would have sent you away from me. 
You have been so kind not to leave nor forsake me when 
you could have done so much better in life than to remain 
here, I now acknowledge all my faults and tell you that 
I am heartily sorry for them.” 

The tears were rolling down ftuth’s cheeks as she said : 
“Dear Marie, be assured that you are forgiven for every 
mistake of your life. It has been my love for you and 
my tender thought for your welfare that has kept me 
by your side.” 

Here Ruth imprinted a kiss upon her cheek, whose 
blush told of shame and sorrow for past naughtiness. 
“Tell me, Marie, what is the burden that is weighing upon 
your mind and what I can do to help you.” 

For a moment her head was bowed low and then with 
a trustful look into Ruth’s dark eyes she began: “You 
remember, dear, that when we were abroad I met Earnest 
Stocklaid. You know him to be an educated and polished 
gentleman. For him I formed a strong and lasting at- 
tachment. He was noble and good. After walking and 
driving with him I grew to feel that life would be sweeter 
because of his existence. Our friendship, of course, mer- 
ited the highest approval of Aunt Langsford, who is 
anxious that I should be united in marriage to some good 
man while she was yet alive and with me. It is sufficient 
for me to say that Earnest sought my hand and was for- 
mally accepted. The wedding was to have taken place 


MARIE’S CONFESSION. lit 

shortly after our arrival home in America. But, as you 
know, papa’s sickness hastened our return. This and 
the disgraceful conduct of Earnest at the farewell banquet 
in Germany (here Marie’s cheeks crimsoned of the re- 
membrance of the occasion of that disgrace) has caused 
me to put off the time from year to year with the hope 
that I might yet persuade him to consent to the breaking 
of our engagement. He is unwilling to give me up, but 
I have entreated him to stay abroad and not return until 
I was ready to give myself in wedlock. I set the time 
for our wedding day and wrote to my betrothed to return 
to America and that we would be united at once in mar- 
riage. Upon his arrival home I have found, to my deep 
regret, that he is still addicted to the use of ardent spirits 
and is, in fact, a periodical drunkard. 

“When I discovered this I was brave enough to break 
our engagement and forbade him to come near me again, 
but, Ruth, he comes here still and will not stay away. I 
have repeatedly refused to see him, but still he comes and 
pleads for my hand. He says: ‘Just try me. Miss Earn- 
estine, and when we are once married I shall love you so 
well that I shall never want to taste intoxicants again.’ 
Oh, Ruth, I love him so! What can I do?” Burying 
her head in Ruth’s lap, she murmured, “Ora pro nobis,” 
and sobbed most bitterly. 

For some moments Ruth did not speak, but tenderly 
stroked the silken tresses of the weeping girl. At length 
she said: “Marie, your words are puzzling. What do 
you wish me to say to you? Surely you do not want me 
to encourage you to yield to the inclination of your heart 
and become a drunkard’s wife.” 

“But,” sobbed Marie, “you know, dear Ruth, it was my 
own hand that gave him his first glass ! And he says that 
since he fell by my solicitation, I must have pity upon him 


118 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


and share his fate. Oh, Ruth! help me, for every day 
I feel that my 'power of resistance is less firm and my 
pity deeper and deeper for Earnest Stocklaid. God help 
me! What can I do?” 

Again Ruth mentally quoted: “When thou wast in 
trouble, then thou didst call on me.” Tenderly winding 
her arms about the girl, Ruth said: “I do not know, my 
dear, what I can do to help you, but you have called upon 
the name of the Lord, and if you ask Him in spirit and in 
truth. He will surely show you the way. The whole trend 
of your life since I first knew you, Marie, has but tended 
to this moment of pain. So oft have I warned you of the 
wine cup, and the danger to yourself and loved ones. 
Now in this dire calamity which has befallen you, what 
can I offer to soothe your pain or ease your aching heart? 
But, dear girl, I will say this: Do not marry Earnest 
Stocklaid unless you wish to multiply your sorrows a 
millionfold. You may love him devotedly, but it is bet- 
ter to remain as you are than to marry a drunkard and 
give to the world a posterity, such as you would evidently 
do, from such a union.” 

“But,” sobbed Marie, “it was my hand that pressed 
the first cup to his lips! And can I turn from him now? 
How truly the apostle spoke when he said: Tf ye sow 
to the wind, ye shall reap the whirlwind.’ ” How often the 
sayings of the blessed book are verified in the lives of 
men! Yet how loth are we to believe until we are en- 
gulfed in the deepest sorrow and compelled to acknowl- 
edge the truths of God’s words! 

Ruth caressed the suffering girl whose spirit was wrung 
and twisted by the lightnings of remorse as she struggled 
between doubt and duty, and said: “God help you, dear, 
for I do not know how to advise, and none but God alone 
can lead you into the way that is right.” 


MARIE’S CONFESSION. 


119 


For a long time Marie sat with her face buried in her 
hands sobbing upon Ruth’s knee. At last she lifted her 
head and murmured: “Oh, if I had only listened to your 
warning, how happy I would be! I have ever known 
that you were right, but the promptings of my heart 
would not let me yield to your entreaties. Now I feel I 
must accept the inevitable and become the wife of a drunk- 
ard. I may have been ignorant and willful, but I will not 
be absolutely wicked. Earnest Stocklaid is noble enough. 
I will cover his weakness with my love.” 

It was now Ruth’s turn to weep. “Marie,” she said, 
“I am sorry for your sin and sorry for the disconsolate 
young man, but, dear girl, as you prize your own happi- 
ness and that of your children yet unborn, do not this 
thing that will make you miserable all the years of your 
life!” 

Marie arose, and one could see by the firm lines about 
her mouth that her resolution was made and that she 
was prepared to meet her fate, whatever it might be. Ere 
she passed out she turned and took the hand of Ruth 
and said; “Fear not for me, gentle Ruth, for if I bring 
shame and disgrace upon my own head and fill my own 
heart with misery, then know, you dear one, that you are 
free from the sin, for your warnings are imprinted on 
every fiber of my heart, while over against each one is 
written the one word, unheeded !” 

She finished the sentence with quivering lip, then passed 
out from Ruth’s presence with her proud head bowed low 
and the aristocratic spirit more subdued than at any pre- 
vious time in her life. 

We have seen Marie Earnestine as a proud, arrogant 
child, with apparently but little sympathy in her nature. 
We now see depth to her character and a finer womanhood 
than one could suppose. Coming, as she had, from a 


120 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


proud, aristocratic race, she had a heritage hard to over- 
come. Nothing but the refiner’s fire and a chisel in 
the hand of the Lord could ever have molded a heart like 
hers. The will that can neither bend nor break must 
wear away; and the continual hammering of God’s love 
upon the heart will shiver an adamantine rock. Hers 
must break, for Marie Earnestine in a new and bitter 
sphere will some day bless the world with good. 

Ruth had undertaken a herculean task to argue the 
ways of righteousness with this stubborn will, but at 
last she could begin to see that her efforts had not been 
in vain. 











WHERE IS OUR PAPA TO-NIGHT? 








CHAPTER XIL 


THE GREAT PROBLEM. 

The great Northwest was calling for a leader in the 
work of reform. Some one was needed with a clear head 
and a well-defined purpose who would go forth in the 
name of humanity and labor for the education of the in- 
dustrial classes. 

The name of Ruth Mansfield had been mentioned to the 
agitators of the movement. Great efforts were also being 
put forth to discover the one who was wielding the pen 
so mightily in the interests of labor. While this inquiry 
was going on, and the leaders of the reform were making 
diligent search to discover the whereabouts of the one 
whose pen was turning the world upside down, Ruth 
sat behind the scenes and calmly smiled as she continued 
to send forth her white-winged messengers to breathe 
harmony into the aggrieved spirits of the industrial world. 
She now felt that the time had come when she could no 
longer remain in seclusion, and yet she had many grave 
thoughts about this publicity, this undertaking. The 
world, it seemed to her, was in a state of fermentation; 
hearts were being tried as at no previous time in the 
world’s history; and she could see, as her master spirit 
towered up above the nations of the world and looked 
down upon the aggressive movements, that the time had 
come for a general round-up — a time when the working 
people of all lands should arise in the dignity' of freedom 
and maintain their equality with Capital. She saw that 
the time had come when the American people should 


124 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


cease to worship gold, and true honor should be given to 
right royal labor. 

Should she heed the call? The question was growing 
to be one of momentous interest to her. Could she go 
forth in the name of the great Author and Leader of the 
nations and with the undaunted courage of womanhood, 
hope to effect good in the world? She paused, waited 
and listened for the voice of the spirit whose counsel is 
sure and never erring. At last a spirit of help luminates 
her soul and she can hear from the watch tower the rus- 
tling of wings as the unseen hosts of heaven come sweep- 
ing earthward to give strength in her weakness and nerve 
to her purpose in life. Yes, she would prepare to accept 
the call and in her weakness do what she could. 

But how to begin she could not tell; for as she arose 
to contemplate the calling and to begin the work of mar- 
shaling the hosts, she could hear the discordant swell of 
multitudinous voices that were out of harmony with the 
good God who has sent His hosts from the glory world 
to intercede for the oppressed, to labor for the people and 
the best interests of their country. Out of harmony with 
Him whose hand is stretched forth to bless “both the just 
and the unjust alike.” It seemed to her in this moment 
of contemplation that the Americans with their hollow 
and vaunted show on the side of aristocracy, and the work- 
ing people on the other, could be likened to a harmonium 
of human souls which the divine spirit of the heavens 
was sweeping over the keys, blending together in melody 
cries of woe and exultation and joy as He was ushering 
in the morning dawn of the new dispensation. Ruth 
Mansfield felt that she was but one key in this great hu- 
man instrument, and that under His divine touch she 
must not give forth one uncertain sound. She is now 
about to launch forth upon the world, a leader in the great 


THE GREAT PROBLEM. 


125 


reforms of her day. She means that her generalship 
shall be felt upon all classes of society, and that her mis- 
sion shall be to breathe harmony into the world. 

Would her efforts prove vain? She could not tell; but 
with a great purpose in view she mounted upon her milk- 
white steed of human love and came forth from her hiding 
place, announcing herself ready to enter the field in the 
interests of Labor. 

Electrifying the masses, she encompassed the city round 
about, scattering her thoughts like rain-drops and leaving 
the imprint of her touch upon the hand of every wage 
worker by the way. She had begun her work without 
any decisory plan, and now felt that her first duty must 
be to investigate the spirit of the clans and to look up the 
interests involved in such organizations. With the zeal of 
ten thousand spirits, she began her work with a faith, feel- 
ing sure that within the rough and uncultured spirits of 
men she should find a courage, undaunted and true. 
With a comprehension of existing evils and of national 
difficulties which seemed far beyond her years, she first 
began her work upon the streets of San Francisco. En- 
compassing the city round about, looking into the jaws 
of the lion “who hath the cheek teeth of a great lion,” in 
the form of half a thousand drinking saloons, dives and 
gambling dens, and understanding that the greatest sup- 
porters of these places of iniquity were the very men for 
whom she was called to labor, she cried mightily unto the 
Lord for strength and wisdom to reach and teach the 
people. 

She sallied forth upon the streets, following the plan 
of the meek and lowly Nazarene, who left his Father in 
Heaven and came down to preach and to teach to fallen 
men. 

As her translucent spirit shed its light upon the hearts 


126 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


and lives of the gregarious multitude who flocked togeth- 
er like herds upon the street, hungry, half clothed, and 
shivering with cold, she began her work of infusing into 
their minds a spirit of enlightenment pertaining to their 
oppressed condition, and a desire for higher and better 
religious, social and educational attainments. Her argu- 
ments were burdened with the saying “In union there is 
strength,” and noting the clans, she cried: “Come, my 
people, let us bind into one concrete body the various 
coalescent bodies and through a united effort begin the 
declaration of political power; and thereby break down 
the whisky monopoly, that is grinding the face of the 
poor and perpetuating the saloon, which is our country’s 
greatest enemy.” 

Great was her rejoicing when she beheld the forces and 
saw them welded together. This reform party had an 
object so noble and a purpose so true that even angels 
looked down and added their benediction as they saw 
the work of ramification and corrupt politicians trembling 
before the young and aggressive men of the land. Now 
and again she was able to catch the ear of some monopo- 
list and by much ingenuity lead him to see the advancing 
army, the superstructure of political reform builded upon 
the solid foundation. 

Yes, Ruth Mansfield had heard the call, and with a 
burning desire in her soul to see a proper adjustment of 
national affairs when Labor shall be crowned with wis- 
dom, she had cried: “Aux armes!” and rushed forth at 
duty’s call, fighting with woman’s strongest weapon in 
warfare — love. 

Coming into Marie’s dormitory a few mornings after 
the incidents recorded in the preceding chapter wherein 
the proud mistress of Palace Earnestine had laid her heart 
bare before Ruth, she said: “My dear Marie, I have at 


THE GREAT PROBLEM. 


127 


last made up my mind to leave your employ, and in a 
few days shall go out in the interests of our nation’s 
work to lecture.” Marie’s face expressed sorrow at the 
thought of giving up such a valuable friend as Ruth ; for 
she had grown to feel not only her dependence upon but 
real, true love for the girl. Her irrepressible spirit had 
shown her herself as she was and many things pertaining 
to true womanhood which without her she would prob- 
ably have never known. Marie made a strong remon- 
strance against her chosen vocation, at which the girl 
smiled as she replied: “You will not always feel as you 
do now, Marie; and in the time to come when you are 
changed, you will come and stand by my side in this great 
and good work for God and country.” 

The proud young dame shook her head incredulously 
at the girl and replied: “That may be true, Ruth, but it 
is my opinion that your hair and mine will both turn gray 
long before Marie Earnestine ever becomes a public re- 
former.” 

“Don’t be sure of that,” said Ruth. “Why, dear! I can 
almost see you with me now.” And interrogatively she 
continued: “Who shall say that your splendid fortune 
shall not some day be dedicated to this blessed work for 
humanity?” 

Again Marie’s face darkened, but in remembrance of 
that other time when she failed to conquer her anger, 
thought well before she answered: “No, Ruth, my mon- 
ey will never be used for any such purpose. Think you 
that I could do so foolishly as to support or strengthen 
the very enemy that is fighting against me? Why, only 
yesterday, Mr. Jack Halstead, my business agent, brought 
me tidings and came for counsel, saying that all the men in 
my manufacturing establishment had gone on a strike 
demanding shorter hours and an increase in wages. No, 


128 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


indeed ! I shall never do any such a thing, nor in any waf 
strive to bring such rapacious wretches up to an equality 
with myself.” 

Ruth’s laugh had in it an ominous ring. “Well, dear, 
you may count yourself happy now that they only want 
an increase in the wage; ere long they will ask you for 
their share of the increase of the capital. Yea, and they 
will demand it, too !” 

“But, Ruth, they are in the wrong.” 

“That is very true, Marie, but when men are mad and 
ignorant there is no limit to their demands ; and if Capital 
is wise it will strive by some means to arbitrate with La- 
bor and come to a better understanding of wherein the 
wrong lies.” 

And then in a milder tone she continued: “In what 
way, Marie, are these brave, brawny workingmen who 
are spending their lives at hard labor for the purpose of 
increasing your capital and for the mere pittance that 
they receive from you, inferior to yourself? Answer me 
if you can. You are a free-born American and so are 
they! In this land where nothing can elevate one person 
above another but intelligence and purity of heart, how 
is it that you draw^ a line between yourself and your em- 
ployes and put Marie Earnestine at the top? You have 
gold, but that does not make you better than your fel- 
lows, neither can it bless you, for only as you pay it out 
to your employes can it be made to serve you. Gold 
can neither sow nor spin, and this unwieldy mass of 
wealth you possess could not put a crumb into your 
mouth nor a cup of water to your parched lips. No! 
not if you were dying of thirst. No, Marie, it is men that 
make you rich! Men! Not gold! Without these men 
you call wretches, my dear, you would be poorer than 
they, for their hands are skilled in labor, while a work stain 


THE GREAT PROBLEM. 


129 


never yet has soiled your own. You may have a knowl- 
edge 'of books, may have mastered languages and ac- 
quired a degree of literature, but if the galaxy of servants 
from the mansion were to leave you to-day, just think 
how helpless you would be! You can not cook nor sew; 
your mind has never yet grasped the first rudiment of 
business. A poor, helpless woman you are, entirely at 
the mercy of Labor. The farmer gathers his corn from 
the shocks of golden husks; it is loaded upon the wagon 
and drawn to the market place. For want of care and 
consideration on the part of the husbandman, one ear 
falls to the roadside and is crushed by the foot of man and 
beast; the other is sold in the market place, is ground into 
meal and is made into bread for rosy-cheeked children. 
Can you say that both have fulfilled their mission? Had 
not the hapless one that fell by the wayside the same right 
to care and protection as the one that was ground by 
pearly teeth? Shall we call a man a rapacious wretch 
because he clamors for his right to care and protection? 
We tell you, no! God forbid that these things should 
be! And He has forbidden it. God, who is the warm 
friend of the cause of Labor, is saying to Capital in most 
biting words (James 5:i): ‘Go to now, ye rich men, 
weep and howl, for your miseries that shall come upon 
you. Your riches are corrupted, and your garments moth- 
eaten. Your gold and silver is cankered and the rust of 
them shall be a witness against you and shall eat your flesh 
as it were fire. Ye have heaped treasures together for the 
last days. Behold, the hire of the laborers who have 
reaped down your fields, which is of you kept back by 
fraud, crieth; and the cries of them which have reaped are 
entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabbath. Ye have 
lived in pleasure on the earth and been wanton. Ye have 
nourished your hearts as in the days of slaughter. Ye 


130 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


have condemned and killed the just and he doth not re- 
sist you.’ And again He says (Heb. I2:iv) in speaking 
to the oppressed: ‘Ye have not yet resisted unto blood 
striving against sin.’ Thus signifying that the spirit of 
resistance must yet come and be manifest in the earth ere 
the oppressors of the poor shall came to their reward, well 
deserved and richly merited, by the hand of the Lord.” 

“Ruth,” said Marie, “you argue well, but you fail to 
make clear to me just what you would have Capital do. 
Would you have me lay my millions down at the feet of 
the poor?” 

“No, indeed!” replied the girl; “we do not want your 
gold. We would have you lay down the lines that are 
drawn between Labor and Capital and cease to rob us 
of our inheritance — for we are free born. We would 
have you recognize the fact that Labor is Capital, and 
give us our share of wealth accruing from the labor of 
our hands; for this rapid centralization of capital in the 
hands of a few is a menace to our country and a leaden 
weight upon the very name of Freedom. Of what value 
would the gold of capitalists be were it not coupled with 
labor? Our country is not so rich in gold as it is in labor. 
Then, we ask, why depreciate that labor and make gold 
king, since gold without labor would be as a chained 
slave with no more value in it than the pebbles upon the 
sea shore. Labor is the people’s God-given inheritance! 
Labor is our capital! And if you will let your better 
judgment prevail, you will see the axiom and understand 
that co-ordinately Labor and Capital are indivisable. 
Therefore, America’s boast should be in Labor and not 
in gold; and the highest aim of American workingmen 
should be in their individual callings to outdo the world 
in skill. America should wear the crown as first in art. 
Our country, under the beneficent hand of God, has 


THE GREAT PROBLEM. 


131 


grown rich. Her citizens point with pride to the rapid 
increase of her treasuries; but, Marie, increase of wealth 
is not evidence of a nation’s prosperity unless it be prop- 
erly distributed among her people. And all that Labor 
demands on that score is its share of the increase of Cap- 
ital; hence, the demand for a better wage.” 

“According to your estimations, dear Ruth, gold has a 
very infinitesimal valuation as it stands alone, but when 
coupled with labor assumes most gigantic proportions. 
I think I can see your position, but to put into practice 
this indivisible unity of Capital and Labor will require a 
better wisdom than I know, and that is the question that 
you have left unsolved.” 

Ruth smiled pleasantly and said: “Drop the lines, 
dear, that now divide Capital from Labor and very soon 
we shall be atonement. Find a heart in Capital and La- 
bor will furnish the hands that will take the indivisible 
body in embrace, and a holy bond will be established 
between the two, while Heaven’s hosts will smile down 
upon the union. And in that day we shall not be obliged 
to look upon such pictures of woe as we now do, for 
homes will be made bright; just in proportion as want 
and sin have disappeared, joy and gladness will come 
stalking in, irradiated with smiles such as God revealed 
when He promised that He would not again destroy the 
world by flood. In that time Capital will be so mag- 
nanimous with Labor that it will scorn to dole out a mere 
pittance as a daily wage; but will, in all honor, give to the 
workingman his share of the increase of Capital ac- 
cruing from the labor of his hands.” 

Dear reader, can you enter into an appreciation of the 
joy that day will bring forth? Think of the happy homes 
where the countenance of wives and mothers have been 
made to beam with joy and gladness, and the pinched, 


132 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


starved faces of little dhildren shall be rounded into the 
bloom of perfect health. May God hasten the day when 
our dream shall be realized and the nation, over which 
floats the stripes and stars, shall have its boast in the free- 
dom that makes free! 





t 



AN OUTING TRIP. 










CHAPTER XIII. 


FOLLOWING AFTER FATE. 

Some weeks after Ruth’s departure from the Earnestine 
mansion she received the following letter from Marie: 

“Palace Earnestine, March 17, 18 — . 

“My Dear Ruth: 

“It is done, and I am to become the wife of Earnest 
Stocklaid. Our wedding day is set for the 27th and I am 
resting in the happy anticipation of a joyous and prosper- 
ous future. Earnest has promised me that he will never, 
never put the cup to his lips again and I feel sure that 
I can trust him. Aunt Langsford has laughed at my 
fears, for she says that all men drink to excess more or 
less, and that my prospect of a happy life with Earnest 
excels that of almost any other girl; and that even if he 
should turn to drink again, the rich are never so much 
disgraced as the poor, and I can shield his faults if I 
will. Come to me, my dear Ruth, for I long to tell you 
all about it and to have your blessing and assurance be- 
fore I enter into the state of matrimony. 

“Most lovingly yours, MARIE.” 

Ruth read and re-read the letter and then carefully fold- 
ed it before she spoke. At length, brushing a tear from 
her eye, she murmured: “Poor Marie, would to God she 
had heeded my warnings in times past, for had she done 
this now her joy would be complete! Oh, what assur- 
ance can I give her that Earnest Stocklaid will not again . 


136 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


fall and become abandoned to drink? I am afraid in this 
case that Marie’s blessings will be a multiplicity of sorrows. 
However, I will go to her, for I may be able to do her 
some good.” 

Ruth’s spirit was much oppressed on account of her 
friend ; but she finally shook off the burden, saying: “Ah, 
well! it may, after all, work for her a crown of glory.” 

The morning Miss Mansfield arrived was one of those 
perfect days that is seldom seen in San Francisco. She 
slowly came up the walk at the Palace Earnestine and re- 
membered she had gone in and out many times in the 
days gone by. But there were not many pleasant memories 
to her around the place, and she had no regret at leaving 
save the one that she could not have been instrumental 
in bringing the household — one and all — to that blessed 
Christ for whom old Jerry so reverently testified ere she 
went abroad, and who, true to his prophecy, had been laid 
away at Lone Mountain long before her return from Eu- 
rope. She bore a tender regard for Marie, whom she 
had served long and well. She was now returning to her 
for a final season, at the close of which Marie was to 
enter into marriage compact with a man whom she knew 
had gone to the bottom as the result of drink. She could 
not help the feeling of sadness that crept over her and 
wishing that she could in some way save her from such a 
fate. Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the 
girl herself, for long before she put her foot upon the 
steps, Marie stood with outstretched arms waiting to re- 
ceive and bid her welcome. 

It was easy to detect that a wonderful change had tak- 
en place in the heart of Marie Earnestine since they had 
last met. That old haughty, aristocratic spirit had gone 
and been surplanted by a gentle womanhood sweet to be- 
'hold, and the servants, one and all, were beginning to 


FOLLOWING AFTER FATE. 


137 


note the change and wondering why it was; whether it 
was the result of her new love and approaching marriage, 
or the gentle spirit of Christ in the girl’s heart. Ruth 
could not tell, but it gave her genuine satisfaction to know 
that the old harsh way of speaking was a thing of the 
past and a courteous and kindly spirit had taken its place. 
Taking Ruth by the hand, she affectionately kissed her 
rosy cheek and led her away to her own boudoir, and in 
the trustfulness of an affectionate sister began to unfold 
to her her hopes and fears concerning the future. Com- 
ing close, she laid her head upon Ruth’s shoulder and 
whispered: “What shall I do, dear, if after we are mar- 
ried Earnest should fall again and become a drunkard?” 

A silence fell upon them as she uttered these words 
and both for a moment were wrapped in thought. Ruth 
wound her arms tenderly about Marie, but it seemed for 
a moment that she could not speak. 

Again she repeated: “Tell me, Ruth, what could I do? 
Do you think he will again become abandoned to drink? 
And if so, would I be afraid of him? Other men who are 
drunkards often become insane; would he also, do you 
think? Is this my fate, or will it work out for my ovvn 
good and the good of the man whom I shall marry?” 

Ruth gently pressed the girl to her bosom and mur- 
mured: “No one but God can tell you, dear, but we will 
pray that it may be for both your good and his. Let it 
pass now, but remember, Marie, if, in the years to come, 
your life should be brought to grief and you need a friend 
come to me and I will help you if I can.” 

Marie gave a little shudder and one could see, as a 
shadow flitted over her countenance, that Ruth’s words 
had grated harshly upon her spirit. Replying she said: 
“I may ofttimes want your sympathy, Ruth, but I shall 
never need your help.” 


138 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


She then assumed a smile, but her voice had in it a 
tinge of sarcasm as she continued: “You can save that 
for the poor, in whom you are so much interested. My 
good father, in his will, made ample provision for all my 
earthly needs before he took his departure into another 
world.” 

Ruth smiled at the girl’s words, for it was, after all, only 
innocence, but a look of foreboding rested upon her coun- 
tenance, as she said: “You know, Marie, that time often 
takes wealth upon his wings and flies away. Our to-day 
can never tell what our to-morrow may bring forth. You, 
too, may be poor some day, notwithstanding the money 
you now have.” 

“If I were dependent,” said Marie, “upon an emolu- 
ment from Labor, your words might have in them some 
meaning; but with this vast estate it is not at all likely 
that I shall ever come to want. You may put your trust 
in God, who is so very real to you, but give me gold, and 
I will trust in it for the temporal things of life !” 

It is a sad thought to Ruth, as she paused to think 
about it, that a single human soul whom God has made 
can put his trust so implicitly in money as Marie Earn- 
estine did. She knew that in the great convolution of 
things to come, poor Marie had yet to learn that gold van- 
ishes like the days of life and is often as illusive as our 
own heart. She knew that chance and change would roll 
the scales from her eyes, and while she was unconsciously 
selfish now she would then let her spirit flow out into a 
broader field of usefulness than she had ever yet dreamed 
she could. 

During the years of service in which Ruth had attended 
Marie she had ever striven to keep their two lives, so 
different from each other, in perfect equipoise. She felt 
this was the only good way of keeping in touch with the 


FOLLOWING AFTER FATE. 


139 


things that concerned both spheres of life. In doing this 
she had enlarged her own opportunity and greatly en- 
hanced the moral character of Marie Earnestine. Ruth 
had done the best she could; she felt that her whole duty 
had been discharged. 

She could almost see with the visible eye the work of 
desolation that was soon to begin. She reviewed the past 
ten years, then murmured : “One could not expect much 
more. As they sow so they reap, but God will never let 
her spend her life without finding the way to the cross.” 

The relations of these two were now about to be sev- 
ered. They had been bound by strong cords of love that 
had grown with the years. As they sat together that day 
they were in a silent way looking back over the past and 
summing up what life had been to each. One reckoned 
the worth by gold; the other by knowledge. One 
thought of the experience with regret; while the other 
had joy in knowing she had done her best. Ruth pressed 
the hand of Marie at parting and thought not for all her 
gold would she change places with the rich and much- 
sought-after woman of society, Marie Earnestine. 






AT THE WEDDING 




CHAPTER XIV. 


AT THE WEDDING. 

The Earnestine mansion was a blaze of light and beauty. 
The grounds, so exquisitely arranged, reflected from the 
many colored lights all the colors of the rainbow. Happy 
guests were flitting about in joyous expectation of wit- 
nessing the nuptial vows of the rich Miss Earnestine 
and the man of her choice. The air was laden with the 
perfume of rare flowers. Low strains of music filled the 
house with sweet vibrations. Deft fingers now played 
the wedding march. Marie Earnestine, with her full 
complement of attendants, entered the room leaning upon 
the arm of her affianced husband. Earnest Stocklaid. 

A tremor of awe swept over the countenances of the 
company as the bridal party appeared. All beheld the 
effulgent beauty of the bride and noted her proud look 
and happy smile. Many admiring glances were cast at 
the noble face of Earnest Stocklaid. But who was the 
tall and beautiful young woman who, with queenly grace, 
was acting as first bridesmaid? Apparently she was a 
stranger to all present. As the party took their position 
under the arch wreathed with smilax and white syringas 
the bell above their heads pealed out in silvery tones the 
hour for the ceremony to begin. M.any guests now de- 
tected the smile, and pronounced the name of Ruth Mans- 
field, the waiting maid of the bride. A wave of haughty 
contempt swept over the countenances of the assembly. 
Immediately after the ceremony a hurried buzz of voices 
could have been heard and occasionally the blood would 
tingle in Ruth’s cheek as she heard her own name whis- 
pered across the room. 


142 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


It was true Marie Earnestine had made a great depart- 
ure and her guests did not know whether to be shocked 
or pleased. 

Soon congratulations were over and the company 
seated to partake of the bountiful feast which is character- 
istic of California life. Here another surprise awaited the 
guests. Wine was not served! Think you San Francis- 
co society was not shocked! Harry Rumsford, as he sat 
opposite his fair cousin, betrayed his utmost disgust. 

Poor fellow! Ten years had not added to his physical 
attraction. He sits to-night with bloated cheeks and 
looks more like a full-grown porpoise than a human 
being. 

No wine, but healthful and nutritious drinks of all kinds 
were served to the guests, and everybody seemed happy 
in the new departure except Harry Rumsford, who had so 
degraded his manhood as to order the waitress to bring 
him a glass of champagne. The stamp of Marie’s foot 
was heard from beneath the table and an emphatic “No!” 
was distinctly audible. Minetta’s, the colored servant, 
face shone with indignation as she exchanged glances 
with Ruth, who, like herself, well remembered another 
time’ when that same foot had just as emphatically 
stamped a “Yes!” to the wine cup. 

“Surely,” said the black woman to herself, as she 
thought how the chains of a slave once clanked at her 
own heels, “the evolution of time will right all wrongs, 
and who shall say that the white slaves to the wine cup 
shall not be liberated as well?” 

Arising from the table, the guests followed their host- 
ess into the drawing room, a truly happy and beautiful 
company. 

Ruth took her seat at the piano, and sweeping her hands 
over the keys, accompanied her own exquisite voice, which 


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144 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


rose and fell in such waves of melody that every ear was 
entranced and the assembly spellbound in the presence 
of the storm. 

When the last sound had died away she was caught 
to Marie’s bosom, while a shower of kisses fell upon 
her lips and brow as she exclaimed: “Dear Ruth, I did 
not know you could sing. Why have you never let me 
hear your voice before? Do tell me, who has so won- 
drously taught you?” 

The girl pressed the jeweled fingers of the bride to her 
lips and replied: “In Germany, Marie; while you were 
enjoying your afternoon nap I was engaged with Pro- 
fessor Von Chuberg.” 

This was a moment of triumph to Ruth, who had spent 
many weary, tedious hours trying to coax M,‘>ne to prac- 
tice her music. To appease Aunt Langsford, Marie often 
gave Ruth one dollar an hour to keep drun.ming the 
piano while she was lost in the depths of some love story. 
This hour was well improved by the maid, who was work- 
ing with the zeal of ten thousand angels to acquire a 
knowledge of books and music. 

Ruth’s achievements were often mistaken for Marie’s 
attainments by Aunt Langsford, who so often said: “It 
doesn’t matter much if Marie is not proficient in learning 
her money will carry her through. When she is done 
it will be all the same as though I had worried myself to 
death trying to persuade her to apply herself to books 
and music.” 

One by one the guests began to depart, and as the 
bridesmaids gathered around Marie to assist in the fare- 
well greeting, Ruth was a central figure in the midst of 
those whom she had brought to see that labor was nobler 
in poverty than indolence in wealth. 

When she reflected over the banished wine cup from 



1 







146 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


such an occasion and the broken cast, and meditated that 
her own strong spirit had effected much, a sweet glow of 
pleasure swept over her soul and she wished that every 
working girl in all Christendom would, even as she had 
done, maintain a spirit of independence instead of yielding 
to what seemed like oppressions of the aristocratic world. 

Kissing Marie’s cheek, which had in this exciting hour 
stolen some of her own rosaceous bloom, she stepped 
into the carriage and was driven away to her new-found 
home. 

Thus closed the wedding fete of Marie Earnestine, the 
rich and envied young heiress, who had taken upon herself 
the troth of wifehood and plighted her vows to a man 
whom she knew to be addicted to the use of ardent spir- 
its. Her first hour of married life had been a flood of 
glory; will the last hour be hallowed with the same? We 
shall see as she passes on from the altar to the tomb. 







MARIE’S BREAKFAST ROOM. 







CHAPTER XV. 


IN LEGAL FETTERS. 

Leaving Ruth for the present in the pursuit of her 
philanthropic work for humanity, we will tarry for awhile 
at the Palace Earnestine to note the many and rapid 
changes that are now taking place there. 

A few mornings after the wedding we find the bride 
seated in her own elegant dining room, presiding with 
great dignity over the breakfast, pouring the rich, golden 
coffee for her husband, who is looking tenderly into her 
blue eyes and saying: “How does it happen, Marie, that 
I never met your cousin, Harry Rumsford, until our 
wedding night? By the way, he seems to be a jolly sort 
of a fellow, and I like him well.” 

The wife’s cheeks blanched a little as she thought of 
the profligate habits of her cousin Harry, and she wished 
within her soul that he had not turned up at this junc- 
ture, but she merely replied: “Oh, Mr. Rumsford, I 
believe, has been away in South America in the interests 
of some business pursuit and has just now returned. I 
sincerely hoped he would marry ere this and settle down 
from his wild and excessive habits, for he really is a 
source of much mortification to me. Had I known that 
he would return so soon, I certainly should have con- 
sented to go east to spend our honeymoon.” 

Earnest Stocklaid patted his wife’s cheek and said: 
“You speak very disparagingly of your cousin, Marie, 
whom I believe to be a well-meaning fellow. By the way, 
I have promised to lunch with him to-day at the Baldwin.” 

Marie bowed her head for a moment and bit her lip 


150 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


in remorseful silence. At length she said: “Earnest, 
Harry Rumsford uses wine and ardent spirits to excess. 
He will be a source of great temptation to you. I would 
rather that you break your engagement and incur his 
displeasure than to think of you away from my side and 
in his company even for one brief hour. Promise me, 
husband, that you will not go.” 

At that moment Harry Rumsford himself came stalking 
into the breakfast room, and in his old familiar way in- 
terrupted their tete-a-tete, exclaiming as he entered: 
“Good-morning, Sir Earnest and Madam Stocklaid! 
Glad to find you so agreeably engaged.” Helping him- 
self to a chair, he continued : “I will take a cup of coffee 
with you, if you please.” 

And then as though a thought had struck him that must 
be expressed immediately, he said : “I say, Marie,- you 
must be getting addle-brained or lunatic to make the 
startHng departure that you did the other night. Fancy, 
if you can, what my revered uncle would say to a marriage 
feast at Palace Earnestine without wine. Yes, imagine 
if you can what he would say to a plebeian working girl 
as bridesmaid to his daughter. By Jove! I believe you 
are losing your senses and will have to have a guardian 
appointed before your next public fete.” 

Marie reservedly held her tongue and made no answer 
to this tirade of abuse which, although clothed in a jocose 
spirit, was meant to wound her. But when she so com- 
posedly held her peace, he, with a thought to provoke a 
reply, further continued: “I say, Coz, I will go out on the 
street and pick up some skipjack and dress him up as a 
gentleman and set him up for my best man. Eh, how will 
that suit you?” 

“That will meet my approval,” replied Mrs. Stocklaid, 
“providing he has as much brains and gentleness of heart 


IN LEGAL FETTERS. 


151 


a? ^uth Mansfield has.” And then looking him full in the 
face, she continued: “Ten years in the constant com- 
panionship of one so true and pure as my excellent maid 
has made me a woman of more sterling worth than I 
otherwise should have been, and a tenderer pity has been 
born in my heart for the poor than I ever knew I could 
possess. I would that you. Cousin Harry, could have 
profited by her wise counsel and good teaching, even as 
i have done.” 

“Humph!” ejaculated the man. “You need not preach 
up that jade to me; had enough of her preaching some 
years ago.” 

The service being removed, they still tarried in the 
breakfast room, Marie wishing every moment that her 
obnoxious visitor would take his departure and leave her 
alone with her husband, for whom she had such tender 
affection. 

At length he arose and taking young Stocklaid by the 
arm, said: “Come on, come on. Sir Earnest, we’ll drive 
out to the races and see who wins the purse to-day and will 
return in time for our lunch at the Baldwin.” 

Marie remonstrated, but her cousin jocosely said: 
“Ay, the honeymoon! You’ll soon get over that and 
wish him downtown all the time.” Before she could 
gather force enough to make her request felt he had hur- 
ried Earnest away, while the wife with mingled tenderness 
and fear stood gazing after them as they descended the 
hill and wished that she had the power in her own feeble 
hand to destroy every drop of alcoholic drink from the 
face of the earth. 

Until this moment, and during all the months of her 
abstinence for Earnest’s sake, she had never once thought 
of her own vineyard and the many thousand gallons of 
wine and brandy that were being manufactured there 


152 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


every year. But now as the thought comes to her, she 
stands almost appaled and wonders what she can do to 
stop the evil and in its place produce some harmless thing 
that would be a blessing to the world instead of a blighting 
curse. For a moment her hands were clasped together 
as if some agonizing thought were tearing her heart, and 
then like one having gotten the victory in prayer, she 
exclaimed in an audible voice: “I will do it! For his 
sake I would sacrifice my life! Why not my money?” 

Not waiting to ring for a servant, she rushed down and 
out of the house and ordered her carriage to be brought 
around immediately. She had not a well-defined purpose 
of what she was going to do, but her first thought was 
to exterminate the wine grape and empty the winery of 
its store. Yes, she would do it if she were beggared by 
the sacrifice. 

Driving directly to the office of her agent, she startled 
that profound business man by ordering the whole wine 
business upon the Ranch Earnestine exterminated — root 
and branch. That shrewd financier looked the young 
woman full in the face and gave a low, shrill whistle, ex- 
pressive of his surprise, and said: “You startle me, Mrs. 
Stocklaid. I do not well comprehend your meaning. Are 
you losing your mind, or has some evil genius been put- 
ting temperance notions in your head?” 

“Neither, Jack Halstead! I am quite sane and am sure 
no evil spirit has been near me, greater than the spirit 
alcohol. I have been looking out upon the world with 
earnest thought and have come to the conclusion that the 
greatest agency for the promotion of human misery and 
wretchedness in the world is the wine business. On this 
account I have made up my mind I will not, for the sake 
of my own personal greed, perpetuate the industry longer, 
and therefore the wine business on my ranch must be dis- 



I WILL. WAIT UPON YOU TO-MORROW, MADAM. 




IN LEGAL FETTERS. 


155 


continued. All you have to do, sir, is to order the vines 
taken up — root and branch — and burned. Whatever 
there is in store in the winery you have carried out and 
poured into the sea.” 

“Mrs. Stocklaid,” exclaimed the man, “you have cer- 
tainly lost your mind! Why, madam, there is fifty 
thousand dollars’ worth of wine and brandy stored in the 
vault at this moment, and would you lose it all?” 

“Yes,” replied the young woman. “What can I do with 
it but to destroy it? If I give it away, it will be drank to 
some one’s woe and will make some woman’s heart ache. 
Empty it into the sea, Mr. Halstead, empty it into the sea! 
And we will quit the business of perpetuating poverty 
and heartaches in the world. We will instead from that 
beautiful ranch send out to the people something that will 
promote joy instead of misery.” 

Mr. Halstead bowed his head upon his hand in perplexi- 
ty, then looked up into the face of the woman upon whose 
countenance he had never before seen a look so resolute, 
and said: “I will wait upon you to-morrow, madam. I 
can not comply with your wishes without further advice 
from some one older than yourself.” 

Arising, he politely opened the door for her to pass out, 
but he soon saw that the resolute woman that had per- 
petually slept in Marie Earnestine had awakened in Marie 
Stocklaid and the man found he was no longer dealing 
with a child. Motioning him to be seated again, she 
looked him steadfastly in the face, and asked: “What 
further advice would you have, sir? Is not my own wish 
concerning my own property the law that must govern 
your actions in regard to my business? It seems to me, 
sir, that the one thing for you to do is to obey my orders 
or resign your position in favor of some one who will 
fully comply with my wishes.” 


156 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


Jack Halstead stood upon his feet and made a few rapid 
strides up and down the room. At length he paused 
before the imperious woman and replied: “You see, 
madam, as Marie Earnestine your will was my law, so 
far as this matter of business is concerned, and I certainly 
should have had to obey your command ; but as Marie 
Stocklaid, you will find that your husband must be con- 
sulted in all such business transactions. Besides, madam, 
this is a most insane request.” 

Marie bit her lip and all the fierceness of her irate 
spirit burned within her. “Was it indeed true? Must she 
consult Earnest about the matter? And if she did, would 
he consent to the destruction of a thing of so much money 
value?” 

She felt at this moment strangely perplexed, and the 
expression of her face revealed her ignorance concerning 
business matters. 

Just how to proceed she could not tell, but conceding 
the point her agent had made, she understood that she 
must wait. Yet her mind was made up and she was de- 
termined that the wine business belonging to the Earn- 
estine estate must go forever. Marie had arisen to her 
feet and the two stood and gazed at each other. Mr. 
Halstead, who had seen in the woman’s face something of 
the motive of her heart, motioned her to be seated again 
and out of consideration to the daughter of the man in 
whose employ he had been for so many years, came, and 
in a brotherly way, took her hand in his own strong grasp 
and asked : “Marie, what has been at work upon your mind 
so as to make you wish to do such an irrational thing 
as you have here proposed? Surely this is no ordinary 
matter, and something of a very undue nature must have 
been brought to bear upon you to make you reason so 
abstractly?” 


IN LEGAL FETTERS. 


157 


For a moment Mrs. Stocklaid was tempted to give her 
reason and tell this sympathizing, brotherly fellow who 
had so long been true to her father and her own best 
interests, all about the doubts and fears that were tugging 
so heavily at her heart. With a second thought though 
her proud spirit asserted itself and with a haughty gesture 
she withdrew her hand, and replied as she did so: “Mr. 
Halstead, did I not tell you that I had been taking notes 
from the world and find that this industry is a promoter 
of crime and misery? Besides, I have been studying the 
toxicological properties of ardent spirits and am persuaded 
that the use of wine and liquors of any sort are hurtful to 
mankind. On this account in all honor to my woman- 
hood, I must urge its discontinuance.” 

“Well,” said the man, “I am at the service of yourself 
and Mr. Stocklaid; and if you both so desire, then I will 
most surely carry out your orders, but until such a time 
and until I am persuaded that this is not your own fancied 
delusion, I am powerless to obey your command.” 

Marie arose and stepped to the door. As she moved 
away, she felt as though shackles were upon her, and that 
the fetters which bound and prevented her from carrying 
out her own will with her own property was almost un- 
bearable. Until to-day it had never been intimated to 
her that a married woman had lost her individuality in that 
of her husband, and for the time being she felt humiliated 
as though she were a galley slave sentenced to menial 
servitude. 

Poor Marie! She has many things to learn in wedded 
life and among the rest she will find that the laws often 
tenderly protect the man, but not always the woman. 

Stepping into the carriage, she was driven slowly down 
the street, her mind in greater perplexity than it had ever 
been before. Catching a glimpse of Ruth just as she was 


158 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


vanishing round the corner at the Occidental, she bade 
her coachman pause, and alighting, ran up the avenue, 
then turned the corner at Pacific street, and by accident 
came face to face with the most pitiful object she had ever 
beheld. Just coming up out of a low, dark dive was a 
young girl scarcely more than sixteen years of age. Her 
face looked as though it had seen sixty years of sin. She 
was leaning upon the arm of a black man, who, w^as cursing 
her as with unsteady step she leaned upon him for support. 
In her arms she carried a little white rabbit which un- 
doubtedly was the only pure thing she had in all the world 
to love. The sight was almost appalling to this well-bred 
woman, who never in all her life had seen a sight so 
shocking. 

Shuddering, she rushed on in pursuit of Ruth, who had 
disappeared out of sight. To her surprise she had run 
further than she supposed and was now in the borders of 
the dark, wicked neighborhood of “Barbary Coast.” A 
horrible fear crept over her, for even though she had lived 
from infancy in San Francisco, she had never before in- 
vaded this region that had through the years made such 
records of barbarity. Fright made her limbs tremble 
beneath her. She could not run and it was with great 
difficulty that she could walk at all. On either side of 
the street, “Saloon” was written over every door and her 
ear caught the sound of revelry within. She recalled 
Ruth’s words as she quoted from Isaiah: “And the harp 
and the viol and the taboret and pipe and wine are in their 
feasts ; but they regard not the work of the Lord, neither 
consider the operation of his hands.” For the first time 
she realized the meaning of that prophecy which had so 
often been quoted in her hearing and wondering if it had 
been necessary for her to come here to know that it was 
fulfilled. Here and there she saw a woman with bleared 


IN LEGAL FETTERS. 


159 


eyes and unsteady step leering at and calling after her 
in drunken stupidity. Groups of men were huddled to- 
gether in coarse debate or in angry dispute, and then 
bang went the crack of a pistol and she saw a blue-coat 
running with club upraised to drive back the eager mob 
that were rushing to see who had fallen victim to the 
shot. It seemed an age to her when she at last came out 
onto Montgomery avenue and motioned to her coachman 
that she was ready. Seating herself she pressed her hand 
hard against her heart and- breathed a sigh of relief. Then 
she leaned back on the elegant cushions and began to 
think: “Was all this v/retchedness which she had just 
now beheld the fruit of the wine industry and of ardent 
spirits?” Her mind seemed dazed and for a time she 
could not grasp the magnitude of the evil. At length she 
raised herself and sat upright and gazed out upon the 
buildings. Saloon after saloon, at regular and irregular 
intervals, along the street; and even the corner groceries 
had their bar. The thoughts that stormed the citadel of 
reason, as the woman’s conscience began to awaken, were 
very great. The sights she was beholding with her newly 
opened eyes were appalling. 

Then and there in her carriage, with none but God to 
hear the vow, she resolved that just so long as she lived 
would she lend her influence on the side of temperance. 
She would encourage the zealous reformers of her day by 
giving largely of her means for the support of their work. 
But what about her own interest in the liquor business? 
The thought occurred to her as she now stood before the 
world, she was as guilty in the sight of God as any one of 
those dreadful men who had in bold relief above the door 
of their business places, the insignia, “Saloon.” She 
bowed her head in her hand and thought intently; and so 
utterly lost in thought was she that her carriage had 


160 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


stood at her own door for many minutes before she 
realized that she was home. Her good-natured coach- 
man put his head in at the door and said: “Shall I assist 
you to alight, my lady?” She started with surprise and 
exclaimed: “Why, Dan, I did not know that we were 
home.” 

Going to her room, her maid assisted her to dress for 
dinner. The excitement of the day and the new-born spirit 
in the woman had made her cheeks flush and her eyes 
sparkle as they had done but a few times in her life. At 
this moment Marie Stocklaid was positively beautiful. 

Entering the drawing room, she found that her hus- 
band had preceded her and was now waiting her arrival. 
Advancing to his side she looked with tenderness upon 
him, and clasping his face between her jeweled hands, 
bent down and placed a kiss upon his lips. Immediately 
she withdrew. The peachy bloom faded from her cheek 
and the tears welled up in her eyes and came rolling down 
upon his hand. Earnest caught her to his bosom, and 
exclaimed: “My precious wife! What is the matter? 
Come, lay your head on my breast and tell me all about 
it, won’t you, darling?” But Marie hesitated. At length 
she tenderly put her hand under his chin and bringing 
his liquid brown eyes into range with her own, said: 
“Earnest, you promised that you would never drink in- 
toxicants again; and now, husband, your breath is foul 
with the fumes of alcohol.” 

Earnest Stocklaid’s face for a moment assumed a dark 
expression and a willful spirit flitted over it. Then with 
a cynical laugh which jarred harshly upon her nerves, he 
replied: “But I am not intoxicated, Marie, and you 
should not allow your precious tears to flow for a sober 
man, should you?” 

For a moment she was tempted to believe him, but the 


IN LEGAL FETTERS. 


161 


conversation continued and Earnest’s desultory manner 
of speaking betrayed him. Marie began to know that her 
tears had not been shed for a sober man, but for one well 
under the influence of strong drink. From his remarks 
and the incongruous way in which he conducted himself 
at the dinner table, she inferred that his day with Harry 
Rumsford had been one of reckless indifference to his 
pledge and his love for her. 

Ah, dear girls! If you would from this tale but gather 
the thought that to marry a man to redeem him from rum 
is but to take upon your hands a task that but few women 
on earth have ever accomplished, you would pause ere you 
take such a step. If you could only learn that the reclama- 
tion of a drunkard is only wrought through the power 
of prayer to God through Christ, who alone can take the 
appetite away and put higher and holier aspirations into 
a soul than those born of earth, then you would be more 
careful upon whom you bestow your love. For until 
you are well convinced that the object of your affection 
has his feet stayed upon the everlasting rock, you are safer 
to live in single blessedness. 

A man whose proclivities tend to drink or sporting in 
any sort of vice can never make the life of a pure and 
gentle woman a happy one. In this case, Marie felt the 
power of her own sin, and knew that she could but reap 
as she had sown. 

This night as she wandered about her palatial home, 
which seemed empty and barren of comfort, she hugged 
the fear of her uncertain future to her bosom, and wished 
that she might awaken and find that all was a troubled 
dream. But she was not asleep! Ah, no! Her life was a 
wideawake, living reality, and she must embrace stern 
fate and do the best she could. 



€ 


\ 


» 


TRUST THAT YOU HAVE HAD A PHEASANT EVENING 




CHAPTER XVI. 


PLAYING A DOUBLE PART. 

Marie Stocklaid embraced the temperance cause. It 
seemed to her business agent, as it did to her many society 
friends, like one of the seven wonders of the world. When 
she had left Mr. Halstead’s office, he snatched up his hat 
and went out in search of Harry Rumsford, whom he 
knew was familiar with the Earnestine estate. He laid 
the matter before him in exactly the same language as 
Marie had presented it to him and wound up by putting 
great stress upon the heavy financial loss that it would be 
to the estate, he said: “The lady is certainly beside her- 
self, Rumsford, and we must prevent her, if possible, 
from doing such a foolhardy thing.” 

Harry Rumsford was provoked and his temper asserted 
itself. Like Halstead his face took upon it an expression 
of contempt, for he regarded his young cousin’s command 
to her agent as nothing short of insanity. He was well 
under the influence of rum, and paced up and down his 
apartments, literally raging in a fit of temper. At length 
he paused before the man and a gleeful look diffused his 
countenance as he said : “Why, see here, Halstead ! What 
can the woman do without the consent of her husband? 
Ha! ha!” laughed he. “Let the little tigress rage if she 
wants to; I can manage Earnest Stocklaid. He is not a 
fellow, I assure you, who will willingly submit to this, 
noble fellow that he is. I will see him to-day and have 
this hash settled at once.” 

Jack Halstead looked at the man as he was talking and 
a feeling akin to disgust crept over him as he noted how 


164 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


his body was becoming distorted from the use of drink, 
and how the mind, once so bright and intellectual, was 
dimmed and bleared from vice. He did not wonder that 
Mrs. Stocklaid was disgusted and at variance with the 
drink traffic. He was now playing in defense of the wine 
industry, but it was not in any wise occasioned from the 
fact that he was a user of the beverage, as such was not 
the case, for Jack Halstead was a total abstainer. But a 
sacrifice of so much money as the extermination of the 
wine plant at Ranch Earnestine seemed to him to be noth- 
ing short of insanity. 

He had not given the temperance reform any consider- 
ation, and thought this departure on the part of the heiress 
of the estate quite out of harmony with the spirit of the 
times. 

Harry Rumsford snatched up his hat and sallied forth 
in the direction of Nob Hill (or rather, shambled forth, 
for his figure so interfered with his natural gait that he 
could not be said to walk) and familiarly took himself to 
the Palace Earnestine. Finding the family just seated at 
dinner, he took a seat at the table and began in a lofty 
way to talk of the wine industry of California and its 
future outlook. Utterly ignoring Marie, he talked to 
young Stocklaid as . though the entire estate of the late 
Judge Earnestine, her father, belonged solely to her hus- 
band instead of to herself, and closed his remarks with 
the following sentence: “My word for it, Stocklaid, you 
have the finest wines in your vault of any wine grower 
in the state.” Earnest’s face lit up with pride, for he evi- 
dently had not, until this moment, felt himself anything 
but an incumbent upon the estate; but now to be ad- 
dressed as its sole possessor, he felt the momentousness 
of his position to be greatly enhanced. 

Just at this juncture, Rumsford turned to Marie and 


PLAYING A DOUBLE PART. 


166 


said: “What has induced you to banish the cup from the 
table, my pretty Coz? Come, now, let us have some of 
that fine brand of which my uncle used to boast 'so highly; 
and be jolly once more.” Until this moment, Marie had 
forgotten the wine closet in the mansion and what a 
dagerous enemy to her home and happiness was slumber- 
ing there beneath her roof. 

The firm lines could be seen to set in her mobile 
features, and such a determined look in her face as one, 
a few years ago, could scarcely have believed would ever 
have rested there. As she replied to her tormentor, there 
was a new ring in her voice which told of a deeper, truer 
purpose in life than had ever been found in her before. 
“The custom of wine drinking. Cousin Harry, is becoming 
obsolete; and I, for one, am a happy convert to the new 
custom of total abstinence, and never again so long as 1 
am mistress of my own home shall the decanter be placed 
upon my board or my guests be tempted by that enemy 
of the home, rum! Furthermore, I declare to you to-day 
that I shall wash my hands of the business and stop the 
manufacture of the stuff at the Ranch Earnestine.” 

“Tut! tut! tut!” exclaimed the vociferous fellow as 
he gave Stocklaid a sly wink. “What do you women 
folks know about the good things of the world, or what 
is to your best interests? Why, my lady, your father 
often told me that the wine product yielded him the best 
income of any industry of the estate. And now would you 
be so foolhardy as to cut off that revenue and impoverish 
your fortune?” “Yes,” answered Marie; “if my fortune 
depends upon the manufacture of ardent spirits which 
are impoverishing the poor and disrupting our nation, 
then I say farewell to wealth and I will be one of the 
people of the land.” 

Rumsford’s face assumed a most contemptuous frown 


166 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


as he saw this strong-minded cousin suddenly lifted from 
a weakling of society into the bold spirit of a reformer, 
and he turned away to address his remarks to her husband. 

The great clock in the hall chimed out the hour of eight 
as the family arose from the table. Harry Rumsford 
and her husband repaired to the drawing room, while 
Marie, excusing herself from their presence, went in quest 
of the butler. Since her father’s death, the butler had been 
given other employment in the house. The two secretly 
repaired to the wine closet and there she poured out and 
destroyed the store that had been set for more than twenty 
years. The man stood back and looked on as his mistress 
smashed the bottles one by one and turned the faucets, 
making an entire clearance of the whole store. At length 
he ventured to say: “Mrs. Stocklaid, your father. Judge 
Earnestine, took great delight in this store. What think 
you he would say if he were here to-night?” Mrs. Stock- 
laid paused for a moment out of respect to her father’s 
name and then replied: “Ah, poor papa! If he had had 
the enlightenment in his day that has come to me through 
experience, this wine would never have been saved. I 
would that he could witness my deed from the other world, 
for I feel sure I would have his approval and benediction.” 
The man shuddered and suspiciously looked over his 
shoulder as if expecting to see the wrathful spirit of Judge 
Earnestine coming with a rebuke instead of a blessing, 
while he said: “Oh, my lady, you may be sure he is well 
aware of what you are doing, for the spirit of man does not 
go away from the earth; and if he is still as he was while 
here, you may be sure that his wrath instead of his bene- 
diction would fall upon you to-night. Come! Let us go 
out of this dark place before we see his avenging spirit.” 
Marie laughed at the man’s superstitious fears and turned 
away from her work of destruction. As she did so, she 


PLAYING A DOUBLE PART. 


167 


once more wished that her hand might as easily destroy 
every drop of wine from the face of the earth. 

Coming noiselessly into the drawing room, her ear 
caught the words of Rumsford as he was revealing to 
Earnest the startling news which had been brought to him 
from her agent, Jack Halstead. He was saying: “I know 
that woman better than you, Stocklaid, and that look 
upon her face at the dinner table means business. So far 
as she is concerned, the wine industry will have to cease. 
Now, ril tell you, old boy, what you had better do. Sell 
me that ranch with all its stock in store. Rather than 
have that young vixen carry out her plan of destruction, 
you can afford to let it go at a greatly reduced rate.” 

This special ranch had come to Mkrie from her mother, 
and she had always felt that whatever she did with it her 
mother’s dying bequest must be cherished. When she 
heard this villainous conspiracy on the part of her cousin, 
it made the hot Earnestine blood surge through her veins. 
Rebellion against this interference flamed up in her heart, 
giving her more strength in purpose than she was aware 
she had hitherto possessed. Marie was ignorant con- 
cerning the laws of her state; but of one thing she felt 
certain, that her husband could not make a sale of her 
property without her consent; therefore, after listening 
to their plans to undermine her object, she quietly stepped 
away unobserved to the music room. She smiled as she 
pictured his surprise, for she felt certain she would thwart 
his plans. She very resolutely repeated: “That wine 
business must go!” Taking up her guitar, her low sweet 
voice was heard throughout the house as she sang to its 
accompaniment. 

Ere long, Rumsford took his departure and her hus- 
band sought her side looking, as he came to her, like a 
guilty child. Smiling, she looked pleasantly up as he 


168 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


entered the room, and said: “I trust that you and my 
scapegrace cousin have had a pleasant evening together, 
and that he. has not led your feet into any trap that will 
cause your downfall.” 

Earnest did not reply, but brought his chair close by 
her side, and tenderly drew her head down upon his 
bosom. He placed a kiss upon her lips, saying as he did 
so: “Marie, dear, your cousin has proposed to buy your 
ranch with all the wine you have in store; and I think it 
a good plan, since your are so strongly opposed to the 
industry. Had you not better let it go now that you have 
the opportunity? Do, dear, let me consummate the bar- 
gain and save you further worry. Marie lifted her head 
from his bosom and looked straight into his eyes. He 
dropped his head as his wife exclaimed: “I sell wine? No, 
indeed, my husband! Did you not hear me say at the din- 
ner hour that the whole business must be discontinued? 
Yes, exterminated, root and branch I If it is wrong to drink 
it, and you know it is, then it is wrong to sell it. I have 
awakened from my awful ignorance pertaining to the evil, 
and I declare to you that the stain of blood shall never 
rest upon my hands. No! All the wine that belongs to 
me shall be emptied into the sea instead of being drunk 
by men. So far as the ranch itself is concerned, Mr. 
Stocklaid, that was the gift of my dying mother and I 
shall never part with it.” 

Earnest’s face that had been growing dark and crimson, 
assumed a stolid expression. He was not inclined to 
argue the point with his wife, so said: “I think, Marie, 
it is time to retire.” Marie arose, and replacing her music, 
rang for her maid and prepared to go to her room. In 
these last days she had begun to realize that she was 
naught but an actor in the drama of life. Having had a 
great admiration for the stage, she said to herself: “Now 


PLAYING A DOUBLE PART. 


169 


is my time to act the double part,” and at once began to 
play the role. Twining her pretty arms about the neck 
of her husband, she laid her head sweetly on his shoulder 
and the two ascended the stairs that led to her room. The 
young wife did not sleep but thought earnestly. She saw 
the trend of their life and to what point it was leading. 
Ruth’s words were already coming to her, and as the 
uncertain future stretched out before her, she could see 
but little sunshine difYused along the way. She thought, 
“There is one thing in which I may take comfort, and that 
will be in giving my encouragement and support to those 
who are working in the temperance reform. If I can not 
work myself, or avert disaster to my own life, then I may 
in some measure be the means of saving others.” Again 
she began to think of that enormous wine vault of which 
she was the sole possessor. What could she do with it, 
or how could she have her wishes carried out concerning 
it and its extermination when she was met from all sides 
with such rapid opposition? 

Shortly she said to herself: “I will take the matter to 
Ruth, and out of her wise brain must come the plan of 
work. Through her generalship we can take the enemy 
unawares and capture him.” 

Soon her eyes were closed in slumber, and in the morn- 
ing she awoke with the lark that sang beneath her bed- 
room window. Soon as breakfast was over and Earnest 
gone a messenger was dispatched to bring Ruth, who 
gladly responded by coming at once. Marie bravely 
opened her heart and revealed her experiences and all her 
resolves and purposes in the temperance work. Ruth’s 
eyes were full of compassionate love for her friend and 
she looked her admiration, for she knew that the step 
Marie was now taking was a departure that would not only 
startle the social world, but prove a blow upon the liquor 


i70 


RUTH AND marie. 


traffic, and she hailed the announcement with joy. Marie 
looked up into the face of her long-tried and cherished 
friend and said: “But tell me, Ruth, what about the wine 
at the Ranch Earnestine? How can I dispose of it and 
do mankind no harm? Surely your wise head must solve 
the problem. We two can work together, for I have firm- 
ly resolved that blood stain from this time forth shall never 
rest upon my hand from the sale of rum.” 

Ruth’s joy was complete, and for some moments she 
sat with bowed head, lost in thought. At length she 
asked: “Marie, will you leave the whole plan to me?” 

“Yes, dear, I shall only be too glad to do so; only let 
me have a hand in the spilling of it; won’t you?” 

Then she told how she had invaded the wine closet at 
the palace and of the joy she felt in the destruction of its 
contents. She gave a vivid portrayal of the butler’s su- 
perstitions, at which they both laughed heartily, and she 
finished her remarks by saying: “My delight when I saw 
the stuff running to waste was only a little foretaste of 
what I expect to enjoy in helping to stop the infernal 
traffic.” 

Ruth patted her head and quoted David, where he said : 
“Blessed be the Lord, my strength, who teacheth my 
hands to war and my fingers to fight.” 

“You would make a good soldier in the army of the 
Lord, Marie, and I am getting in a hurry to see you one.” 

“Oh,” replied Mrs. Stocklaid, “that is done already, 
dear Ruth, and I am happily enrolled with God’s people. 
You see, I took your advice and reverently listened to the 
teachings of those good Sisters of Charity who so kindly 
sought me while sorrowing over papa’s death, and long 
ago I knelt at the feet of our Father Confessor and told 
him all my life and received absolution from my sins.” 

Real surprise was depicted upon Ruth’s countenance, 


PLAYING A DOUBLE PART. 


171 


and after recovering from her astonishment, she said: 
“My dear Marie, is this indeed true? Why have you 
never told me before? I should have been so glad to 
know.” 

A little crimson wave swept over Marie’s cheek and 
hesitatingly she replied: “Because, dear Ruth, you are 
such a practical Christian and seem to have a something 
in your experience that I have never yet attained in mine. 
I have been waiting and trusting I would come to know 
your joy before I revealed to you my relation with the 
church.” 

Ruth Mansfield took the girl’s face between her hands 
and looked into the depths of her liquid blue eyes, and 
seeing nothing written there but open truth and frank- 
ness, she kissed the ruby lips and said: “Keep seeking, 
dear one, and God will yet give you an experience as rich 
as any one of earth has ever enjoyed. You know, my 
precious sister, that I began in this Christian course so 
many years before you, you need not wonder that I am 
further on the way.” And then, pausing for a moment, 
she continued: “But I am told by many who have ex- 
perienced perfect love that God is just as able to give in 
a moment of time — yea, in a twinkling of an eye — all that 
I have been for so many years in attaining. I will pray 
that you may receive a better and a higher blessing than 
you have yet known or enjoyed.” 

Ruth Mansfield was beginning to know, through the 
experiences of her life, the truthfulness of that old-time 
poet’s expression where he says: 

“God walks in a mysterious way. 

His wonders to perform.” 

As she bade the mistress of the Palace Earnestine good - 
bye and returned to her own little home, she meditated 


172 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


Upon the silent workings of the Spirit and wondered 
why things were so. She was indeed surprised at Marie's 
announcement of faith and holding fellowship with the 
church, and somewhat of pleasure thrilled her own heart 
to know that she was indeed enrolled with God's people. 
But yet she had an inexpressible longing in her soul for 
that dear one to come up higher and get into the holy of 
holies, where the Blessed Spirit could have all its own 
way in her heart. And so she prayed again, as ever, 
that God in His infinite fullness would come into the heart 
of Marie Stocklaid and make her a great light in her own 
church to lead many to a higher and nobler life and work. 









CHAPTER XVII. 


SPILLING THE WINE AT RANCH EARNESTINE. 

Some days after the conversation recorded in the pre- 
ceding chapter, two women, Ruth Mansfield and Marie 
Stocklaid, could have been seen driving about the beau- 
tiful grounds at Ranch Earnestine. Their appearance, at 
this time and their peculiar movements carried with them 
somewhat of mystery, exciting some curiosity on the part 
of the villagers. It was in the loveliest season of the year 
and hundreds of acres stretched out before them, all un- 
der the cultivation of the wine grape. Back a little lay 
the undulating hills, and farther on could be seen the rest- 
less blue sea as it surged and foamed and beat upon the 
rocks of the shore. Here and there were white cottages 
that looked inviting enough to a weary pedestrian and told 
something of peaceful repose within. But as Marie and 
Ruth paused at each door and held a whispered consulta- 
tion with the wives of the workingmen, one could see by 
the tears that would unbidden run down their cheeks dur- 
ing the course of conversation that peace and joy did not 
flow from all their cups. A close observer could have 
detected that there was something in the air that had 
not heretofore been wafted on the breezes to fire the zeal 
of women. By and by they drew up before a cottage 
that had a cleaner and happier aspect than any they had 
yet visited. Here beautiful flowers were blooming, and 
although the building was the exact counterpart of others, 
yet a diflerent spirit seemed to pervade the atmosphere, 
which told of culture and a better civilization. Quietly 
sitting in the carriage, waiting for the inmates to appear, 


176 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


Ruth is heard to say: “You see, dear, what a dif¥erent air 
there is about a temperance home.” 

“Yes,” said Marie, “and ere long we will bring all the 
others to look like this one.” 

At length a stalwart German with his good wife 
Gretchen is seen to come out of the house with a look of 
expectancy. On reaching his hand up to Marie, he is 
heard to say: “Veil den?” 

“It is done,” said Marie, “and a host of good women 
will be here with us at seven o’clock this evening. Get 
everything in readiness and I think our method will 
work. We will put an end to this unholy business.” 

Looking into Ruth’s face, his old-time work-fellow, he 
exclaimed: “Praise de Lord, Mees Mansfield! All ve 
need is to steer up des vimins mit zeal an de ting must 
go!” 

A few words more spoken to the good man and his 
spouse and the two ladies drove away and put up at the 
house of the overseer of the ranch. That evening at ex- 
actly seven o’clock twenty ladies were assembled in the 
sitting room at the German home. Gretchen, their host- 
ess, with her hair combed smoothly down behind her 
ears, and twisted into a close coil at the back of her head 
and a snowy white apron tied before, was just bubbling 
over with good fellowship and doing her best to make 
memorable the occasion of their coming together. When 
they were seated Ruth struck the chord and they sang: 
“How Firm a Foundation, Ye Saints of the Lord.” 

Gretchen knelt and in broken accents prayed that God 
would bless their coming together and make every 
woman, even as Mrs. Stocklaid, strong in purpose to do 
right for His name^s sake. When the woman arose from 
her knees Marie was seen to brush a tear from her eye. 

Ruth, in her easy way, said to the company assembled: 


SPILLING THE WINE AT RANCH EARNESTINE. 177 


“Dear sisters, Mrs. Stocklaid, your benefactress and em- 
ployer of your husbands, has met with a strong convic- 
tion. That she may make her thoughts known to you 
we have called this meeting. She will now speak and 
make her purpose known in her own way.” 

Marie arose, and with gentle dignity began by saying: 
“My dear sisters,” and then paused for the manner of ad- 
dress sounded quaint, “I have found in our private consul- 
tations to-day that the heart of every woman before me 
has been pained by the traffic in rum. And now, 
dear women, I want to confess to you that I am sorry 
for my part of the business, and have fully decided to 
exterminate it, root and plant, from the Ranch Earn- 
estine. It has been the spirit of a strong conviction that 
has brought me here to take counsel with you in regard to 
this unholy business and to entreat your help in my 
scheme to exterminate it. I have been looking out upon 
the world and noting the ravages which this rum traffic is 
making in the hearts of wives and mothers. I have seen 
how it is disrupting the home and the nation. The in- 
nate womanhood within me and the love I bear to my 
husband has made me willing to sacrifice its money value 
and put it away forever. How many of you present with 
your husbands and sons will lend a hand and help us 
empty the wine and brandy now in the vault and let it 
flow into the sea?” 

Each woman present signified her willingness to do 
what she could and Ruth exclaimed: “Blessed be the 
Lord who giveth us the victory !” Gretchen shouted and 
Marie wept. Heroism settled upon the company and 
made them glad to wage a war with casks and kegs and 
help banish from the Ranch Earnestine that enemy to 
their homes, the winery. “Well then,” said Marie, pre- 


178 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


senting the keys to the vault, “everything is in readiness 
and we will proceed at once to the scene of action.” 

Gretchen’s husband was sent out in quest of the good 
men whom the ladies knew would stand by them, while 
she herself invited the company to step into the carry-all 
that stood in waiting at the door. They were now en route 
for the winery down by the sea. 

The evening was dark. Twenty women silently held 
their tongues for the space of half an hour, or until they 
were well out of hearing of the villagers. Shortly after 
their departure from Gretchen’s home one might have 
heard the unaccustomed blows upon the heads of wine and 
brandy casks as, one after another, they were dispatched 
and sent on their way down into the blue waters of the 
Pacific. Ere long the little company of women were re- 
inforced by a band of strong and sturdy men, led on by 
their German friend, who worked like heroes in helping 
the women slaughter the barrels and casks. No warriors 
ever fought more bravely than this company of men and 
women. With every gallon of the liquid curse that was 
spilled silent prayers of thankfulness to God went up from 
the hearts of those men and women. At length the battle 
was won; such a shout of victory as went up from that 
company of people is worthy to be repeated. 

That night the victory was telegraphed over the na- 
tion. The “League of Freedom,” the most popular club, 
was very indignant when they learned what had taken 
place at Ranch Earnestine. 

Ruth said: “Let the heathen rage and the people imag- 
ine vain things, but God, who is the author of the temper- 
ance work, is able to stay their wrath, and the end is not 
yet.” 

Ruth ordered every vine on the place taken up, root 
and branch. The land, she said, was to be used for 


SPILLING THE WINE AT RANCH EARNESTINE. 179 


various kinds of fruit, such as the raisin grape, apricots, 
etc. When this was done the two women, triumphant 
in good works, found their way back to the city, having 
been absent but three days. The commonwealth was rife 
with gossip, and there were many grave conjectures about 
the sanity of the rich young woman who had made such 
a sacrifice of property for conscience’s sake. There was 
great wonderment as to the cause of her strange way of 
ridding herself of the curse. The people though had not 
long to wait, for as the months flew by it became an estab- 
lished fact that Earnest Stocklaid was fond of the cup 
and given to many profligate habits. This publicity was 
a source of grief to Marie, who loved him well and ten- 
derly. She had fondly hoped that he would not drink 
to excess, and that she could cover his sin with her 
wealth, but alas for hopes that have been set upon a vic- 
tim to rum! She now had but little of Earnest’s com- 
pany. She sat from day to day and wept as she felt the 
little heart beat beneath her own. She groaned beneath 
the heavy load, which was indeed hard for her to bear. 
If she could have laid the blame at any other door than 
her own she would have found some sense of comfort in 
it, but upon reflection she was only brought face to face 
with her own sin and the sore seemed to grow deeper 
every hour. The sight of Earnest as he came home to 
her from day to day, staggering under the influence of 
drink, the loathing she felt in her soul for his rum-soaked 
person, his polluted breath and bleared eyes, were to this 
young and sensitive creature a thing horrible in the ex- 
treme. Marie had for some months ceased to mingle in 
society and had cut down the list of friends to a few 
trusted and tried who had known her from childhood. 

Up to this time she had not mentioned her grief to a 
soul save Ruth, whom she saw but seldom. One day 


180 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


Marie looked unusually handsome. Arrayed in a pink 
tea gown, elaborately trimmed with lace, she sat leaning 
over a chest of drawers handling the dainty things which 
she expected ere long would be brought into use. She 
said to Aunt Langsford : “Oh, if I could know that my 
child would be all right, perfectly formed in mind and 
body, I would take some comfort in these pretty things, 
but with such a heritage I can not expect to give to the 
world a child superior to the common children of the 
street.” 

Aunt Langsford was shocked at this announcement and 
laughed scornfully at the foreboding of her niece. She 
said : “My dear Marie, how you do depreciate your own 
blood! Imagine, if you can, how, with a drop of Eurn- 
estine blood in its veins, the child can be anything but 
noble. Why, my dear, I expect that some day your pos- 
terity will accept the highest seat in the nations and be 
known and loved by all people.” 

“You are very sanguine. Aunt Emile, but to what emi- 
nence can a child whose father is a drunkard ever hope 
to attain?” 

Arising to her feet, she paced up and down the room, 
and as the rich folds of her elaborate garment trailed out 
behind her, there was something of tragedy written upon 
her being. One could see that fear and dread were her 
constant thought. Just then the door to her apartments 
was thrown open with a bang and Earnest Stocklaid 
staggered into her presence with a terrible oath ringing 
from his lips and the blood streaming from a wicked 
gash cut just above the ear. With horrible fright Marie 
buried her face in her hands and fell in a dead swoon upon 
the floor. 

Even Aunt Langsford was thrown out of equipoise, 
feeling uncertain just what to do. To call the servants to 


SPILLING THE WINE AT RANCH EARNESTINE. 181 


witness this awful scene would but reveal the inner state 
of affairs to the world and give idle tongues an opportuni- 
ty to wag at Marie’s expense. She stood a moment in 
a quandary, ringing her hands in mortal fear, 
when Ruth Mansfield, unannounced, walked into their 
presence. Taking in the situation at a glance, she ex- 
claimed: “Good gracious, Stocklaid, what do you 
mean?” 

Grasping the arm of the intoxicated man in her strong 
right hand, she hurried him into a closet at the end of the 
room and turning a key upon him, said : “Don’t you dare 
to speak until I return to you.” She reached some water 
and, bending over the form of Marie, bathed her face and 
temples. Ere long the blue eyes opened once more. She 
was then assisted to her chair, when she glanced 
nervously around the room, and seeing nothing 
of Earnest, asked: “Ruth, was it a dream?” Then at 
the memory of the scene she covered her face and a visible 
tremor shook her frame, while a deep sob burst from her 
lips and she wept aloud. “No, Marie, it was not a dream, 
but a stern reality which you must face as bravely as you 
can.” 

Pointing to the closet she said: “Earnest is there un- 
der lock and key. Will you not go into another room for 
a little time and leave the poor wretched man to me?” 

Marie arose and feebly moved toward the door, but 
something was wrong with her knee and she could not 
walk alone. Leaning upon Aunt Langsford’s arm, she 
was assisted to her bedroom and a servant speedily dis- 
patched for the family physician. Ruth turned the key to 
the closet and looked in. There, stretched full length 
upon the floor, lay the unhappy man in a drunken sleep, 
while the blood oozed steadily from the wound in his 
face. Allowing him to lie in the same position until the 


182 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


arrival of the doctor, she prepared the necessary things 
for dressing the 'wound, and then sat down to wait. Soon 
she heard a step upon the stair. She went out, and tak^ 
ing the professional man by the hand, said: “Doctor, I 
am not going to show you a ‘skeleton in the closet,’ but 
a living reality. If you attend to this case first you can 
give a better diagnosis of poor Mrs. Stocklaid’s affliction.” 
She opened the door and looked up into the doctor’s face 
just as his eyes fell upon the hapless man in the closet. 
His countenance assumed an expression of horror as he 
looked upon the drunken creature, whose face and linen 
were smeared with blood, his features swollen and livid 
with the heat of rum. Wiping the beads of perspiration 
from his brow, the doctor paused a moment and reflected. 
At last he spoke. 

“Miss Mansfield, how long has this thing been going 
on?” 

“Ever since their marriage day, I believe, doctor; but 
of late the case is getting to be a desperate one. What 
can I do to help you, sir?” 

“Bring me a bowl of water and a sponge.” 

Ruth hastened away, and upon returning found the 
patient seated in an arm chair, while the doctor was re- 
moving his outer garments. Dressing the wound, he gave 
the unhappy man a potion of medicine to cool his blood 
and commanded his valet to keep him in the house until 
his return. The fatherly old man had waited at the bed- 
side of Marie’s mother when her baby eyes first opened 
on the world. He went to Marie’s room and bent above 
her. Sincere pity was written upon his kind old face 
when he said: “Be assured, Mrs. Stocklaid, that you 
have my sympathy in your sore trouble, and anything I 
can do for you I will. Remember that I am your friend, 
as I was your mother’s friend before you were born.” 


SPILLING THE WINE AT RANCH EARNESTINE. 183 


. Marie’s tears flowed afresh at the expression of pity. 
She allowed her face to lie in his fatherly palm for a mo- 
ment and thought how good it would seem to roll the 
burden off and let the generous old man carry it all for her. 
Poor child! If she had just gone one step higher and 
thought to lay her burden down as Jesus’ feet what a sense 
of consolation she might have found in this hour of pain ! 
She was started on a long, weary journey to the cross, but 
she will get there by and by. After awhile she dried her 
tears and said: “Doctor, if you can only give me the 
assurance that my precious baby will be all right it would 
relieve me of the heaviest load I have to bear.” Pausing 
a moment, she continued: “I do not deserve the pity 
or sympathy of friends, for it has been my own wicked- 
ness and disobedience that has brought me into this day 
of regret. Oft and repeatedly did Ruth warn me against 
the cup, but I would not hear. The time has come when 
it is too late.” 

For some days the house was darkened and the nurse 
moved about the room with careful tread. Marie had 
a lingering attack and it required the doctor’s utmost skill 
to prevent her from a most serious illness. At last she 
began to mend and the physician gave his permission for 
her to drive out and take the ocean breeze that came 
sweeping in through the Golden Gate. 

Earnest Stocklaid had time to think of his downfall 
and to what point of destruction he was tending. For a 
time it made him a better man, but try as she would, Marie 
could not induce him to take the pledge of total absti- 
nence, nor promise that he would refrain from playing 
games of chance. It began to look as though this res- 
pite was only the gathering of the mists that would by 
and by burst in a fiercer storm upon Marie’s defenseless 
head. 


184 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


When we pause to think of the many victims of the 
drink traffic, the many unhappy homes, the many aching 
hearts that are bewailing this curse in the land, one feels 
that Uncle Sam should have pity on the defenseless 
women and children and strike rum from the land. 
But, alas! when Christian voters have steeled their hearts 
against pity and turned a deaf ear to humanity’s wail! 
Poor Marie! Fate’s hand rests heavily upon her. Her 
lot is but one of the many, for just below, in the street in 
San Francisco, are thousands whose sufferings are more 
intense than hers, for in addition to the hurt of the rum 
fiend, they also have the sting of poverty. We ask, how 
long will this accursed traffic be suffered to live and woi k 
evil in the land? 



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CHAPTER XVIII. 


MARIE’S VOW TO HEAVEN. 

The days of maternity were ended. Marie lay upon 
her bed white and still after a long struggle at the verge 
of the grave. The nurse sat near the bedside, holding in 
her arms a wee speck of humanity that God had just given 
to earth. The mother’s wistful eyes looked askance at 
the good woman, but no word was spoken. At length 
the doctor came and bowed his head to catch her feeble 
words. She was saying: “May I not see my baby?” 

“After a while, Marie; wait until you are a little strong- 
er. Take this potion now and close your eyes for a little 
time.” 

Soon Marie was sleeping. Gently, almost as thought, 
the nurse came and slipped the babe into the bed beside 
the mother, then vanished from the room. After a mo- 
ment — was it motherly instinct, or was she dreaming? — 
she became conscious of its presence. Yes, there it was; 
the tiny thing that her eyes had yearned to see. Now it 
lay at her side; she could feel the little soft hand as it lay 
nestled in her own and she could distinguish the flutter of 
the little heart and realized that it was her own, own 
baby. The o’ermastering love of motherhood came 
grandly into her soul, and for a moment her life was 
freighted with the most perfect joy that ever comes flood- 
ing into a woman’s life. Her eyes longed to look upon 
the child that was all her own. What was it like? She 
tried to raise her head that she might see its face, but 
somehow her eyes were dim .and she waited to gather 
strength. At last, with an effort, she rolled the blanket 


188 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


away and gazed with tenderness upon the little one as 
it lay snuggled closely upon her arm. Oh, what joy! to 
behold such perfectly molded features! But she wanted 
to see it all. Gently turning the little face, she drew it 
upon her breast and then, one look, and she fell back 
on her pillow, while an agonized expression of pain 
swept over her countenance; her brain reeled and she 
forgot this world as she lay there with her child upon 
her bosom. The nurse came, then with rapid step 
hastened into the next room for the doctor. Restoratives 
were applied. After a great while the white lids fluttered 
and the blue eyes opened once more. Pleadingly 
she looked up into the good man’s face and said: 
“Doctor, must it be so? Can’t you do something to 
help it?” 

“Nothing, Mrs. Stocklaid, only to ask you to be strong 
and bear it bravely.” 

“Lift him up, doctor, that I may look at him again.” 

The good man lifted the infant in his gentle arms and 
brought the little face fully in view of the mother. There, 
just in front of the ear on the child’s face, were marks 
put there to stay for life — an impression photographed by 
the mother upon the child the very day the father had 
come in upon her in a state of intoxication. Marie closed 
her eyes, and a deep groan issued from her lips. After a 
while in agony she struggled to break the spell, and once 
more thought of the world. At length she said: “Doc- 
tor, aside from this is the body perfect?” The good man 
hesitated for a moment as though he would spare her 
feelings, and then answered: “No, dear Marie, one knee 
is deformed, but it is possible that it can be helped.” 

The mother lay in an agony of grief and then said: 
“Lay him upon my breast, doctor, that I may feel his heart 
beat against my own.” After complying with her request 


MARIE’S VOW TO HEAVEN. 


189 


he was about to turn away, when she clung to him with 
one feeble hand, and then lifting the other to heaven, 
said: “Oh, God, hear and record my vow this day: As 
long as I live I will fight the demon drink that has 
wrought this awful curse upon my child.” 

The nurse came and was about to take the little one 
from her when Marie continued: “Doctor, will you take 
him in your arms once more?” Lifting the little one up, 
the good old doctor smiled as she said: “I have often 
been told that I was named while lying on your hands, 
and now in like manner I wish to name my son before 
you leave my bedside that you may present him to his 
father ere you go.” The nurse raised her on the pillow. 
She took the hand of her child, whose fingers closed 
around her own, and said: “I name him Earnest Earn- 
estine Stocklaid. I give you, my child, with your heritage 
to your father. Earnest Stocklaid.” 

The father arose from his chair, and with an un- 
steady step came and stood by the bedside of his wife, 
whom he could have loved tenderly but for rum. He re- 
ceived, as the doctor laid him in his arms, the child that 
was born with the heritage of a drunkard— his own son. 

Marie looked up into the father’s face and said, oh 
so tenderly: “Earnest, husband, won’t you take the 
pledge to-day for Earnie’s sake?” 

The miserable father regarded the boy for a moment 
while tears welled up in his eyes, and then laying him 
back in his mother’s bosom, he left the room without a 
word. Ah, you dear father, whose eyes are resting upon 
this page, have you ever stood where Earnest Stocklaid 
stood that day and discovered that your love for rum 
was stronger than your love for wife and child? If so, 
may God have pity on your poor soul and help you to feel 
the responsibility of fatherhood. 


190 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


When a man takes to his heart a pure and trusting 
woman, promising to be her husband, friend and protec- 
tor, in that moment he makes himself not only responsi- 
ble to his wife, but responsible to his God, whether he ful- 
fill that holy mission or not. Earnest Stocklaid had 
failed in his mission to both his wife and child. Are you 
amenable to the judgment of God as well as he? God 
pity that man who is not able to love his wife as his own 
soul or better than he loves rum, for he doth not know, 
neither can he enter into the perfect joy of man. 



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CHAPTER XIX. 


DOINGS AT THE MANSION. 

Of late Earnest Stocklaid and Harry Rumsford had 
been dealing in stocks, and rumor said they had lost heav- 
ily. Whether this were true or not, Marie could not tell. 
But one thing she knew, her bank account had grown 
suddenly less ; and when she investigated the matter found, 
to her regret that her own name had been forged by her 
husband for immense sums of money. 

What could she do about it? To make any stir or out- 
cry would be but to engender strife and lay her sorrows 
open to the world. If it had been any other than her 
husband she would have protected herself by the law. 
But open disgrace for him in a criminal court meant open 
disgrace for herself and child, and she felt that she could 
not face the scandal. She therefore said: “I will forego 
this ofYense and warn my agents to be on their guard and 
protect me from further wrong.” 

She now saw the necessity of economizing, and thought 
by cutting down expenses she might in some way repair 
the loss. She tried her best, but could not get the do- 
mestic and business machinery to run smoothly without 
money. Many enormous bills were sent for her to meet — 
things for which she could give no earthly account. 

Her business agent was perplexed and upbraided her 
sharply for the destruction of the wine revenue. Marie 
had no knowledge of business and could not tell about 
the legality of many things. Somehow her fortune seemed 
to be vanishing like mist before the wind and she coul4 


194 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


not understand why so many long written documents 
were presented for her to sign. 

Once she refused to put her name to a certain paper 
until she had a better understanding of them, but her 
husband flew into a rage, and to bring peace she signed 
her name, hoping to settle the matter. 

Her sorrows were many and great. Standing, as she 
did, high in social life, she was loath to tell her troubles 
lest “Mother Grundy” make her a subject of gossip. She 
now saw little of her husband, who was seldom sober, 
and who was always happier out of her presence. His 
love for her seemed to have faded, and for little Earnie 
he had an especial aversion. 

This last was a deep sorrow to Marie, who had taught 
the child to say “Papa” as soon as he could speak. As he 
grew the little fellow continued lame and was always found 
resting upon his crutch waiting at the front gate in happy 
anticipation of a walk to the house with his papa, whom 
he fondly loved — never dreaming that his affection was 
not warmly reciprocated. 

Even though blighted. Earnest Earnestine was a source 
of comfort to his mother. She had invested her life for 
the boy and meant, as soon as the child was sufficiently 
old, to begin her work in the cause of temperance. She 
always felt that she should unite with some temperance 
society, but did not know just how to get about it. She 
feared lest in some way she might become associated with 
women who were coarse and illiterate. Poor child ! Had 
she but stopped to think that her association with a drunk- 
ard was more demoralizing to the chastity of her spirit 
than the illiteracy of zealous, earnest-hearted women, 
how earnestly she would have sought out those from 
whom she was shrinking! Then her fear of public work 
would have vanished. 


DOINGS AT THE MANSION. 


195 


Once Jeanetta, her servant, had asked her to join the 
Woman’s Christian Temperance Union and tried as best 
she could to explain the object of that society; but it was 
not made clear and since that day no one had even men- 
tioned the subject or asked her to become a member. 

She now saw that something must be done; but just 
what to do she could not tell. Ruth had been in the east 
three years or more and Marie missed the inspiration 
which she was accustomed to draw from her. Her for- 
tune, too, which five years before had looked like an ever- 
lasting store of capital, had been dwindling away. All 
she now had was the Ranch Earnestine and the mansion 
in which she lived. Upon the latter, too, she had recent- 
ly learned, was a heavy mortgage which could not be 
met. 

Earnest continued in his profligate ways and of late 
was growing morose. His presence around the house 
was a burden. 

Several of the house servants had been discharged, and 
many changes for the sake of reducing expenses had been 
made. The world now more than ever began to look 
dark to Marie Stocklaid, and unless a change were to 
come soon, she felt that she must yield to despair. Life, 
like clouds, often have a silvery lining, and a recent letter 
had come from Ruth announcing the glad news that she 
would soon return to California. This letter seemed to 
contain a promise to Marie of better things, for she said: 
“Ruth always did have the happy faculty of making things 
run smoothly.” 

Of late she had begun to miss things from the man- 
sion. Several pieces of silver had disappeared from the 
sideboard and many valuable articles from the various 
rooms were also gone. Marie thought it was owing to 
the change in servants, and that unskilled labor was mak- 


196 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


ing up for low wages by pilfering things from the house. 
All these trials wore upon Marie, and silver hairs were 
now beginning to show among the beautiful brown that 
crowned her brow. She took courage, for she heard that 
Ruth was coming to the city on the following week, and 
she said: “That dear girl is so wise; she will show me 
what part of the machinery that runs the household is 
loose.” 

She had taught little Earnie to say “Auntie Ruth,” and 
she had taught him also to speak a temperance verse. 
The child, too, was waiting anxiously for the happy day 
when he should see the dear lady that his mamma talked 
so much about. Many were the air castles he built. 
He also told of what he would do when “Auntie Ruth 
sould turn.” 

Ah, happy and joyous childhood, so sweet and trusting 
and full of hope ! Who is there on earth that knows the 
meaning of Heaven like a mother knows after she has 
looked for the first time into the baby eyes of an innocent 
child all her own? There is no guile there. Perfect love 
casteth out fear. The child trusts its mother as a soul 
trusts its God. Such was Marie’s experience with her 
son. God, as if to make amends for physical deformi- 
ties, had given to the boy a noble intellect and a sweet, 
trusting spirit such as few children possessed. Even when 
the slippery sands of life were breaking from beneath her 
feet, she felt that in this boy there was something that 
would some day make the world better for his having 
lived in it. 

The days and months were passing on. Responsibili- 
ties of life were increasing, yet the fond mother felt that 
she had a stay and comfort in her son. Happy is the 
man or woman who has yet left to her the love of a little 
child! The thunders of life’s storms may roll over the 


DOINGS AT THE MANSION. 


197 


soul and the lightnings of remorse shiver the citadel of 
reason, but that secret place where the mother hides away 
her troubles is in the heart of her child. The child is as 
sacred to God as unto herself. 

Blessed be the name of the Lord, who in His divine 
plan of creation thought to give to the home a little child ! 
Blessed be the name of the Lord who in His plan of 
salvation to the world thought to give to esrth a little 
?hild — His only begotten Son! 




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I 


CHAPTER XX. 


THE SINS OF THE FATHER TRANSMITTED TO THE 
CHILD. 

The fog had hung dark and gloomy over San Francisco 
for some days and things about the mansion had been 
gloomier still, for Earnest had been on a spree of unusual 
length, during which time the family, and even the serv- 
ants, had stood in mortal fear and dread of him. But this 
morning, in which our chapter begins, the sun rose 
brightly; and little Earnie, whose irrepressible spirit had 
been making the halls and corridors ring with childish 
glee, came rushing into his mothers room and joyfully 
exclaimed: “Oh, mamma! Our papa is in ze brekfas 
room an he is sober, he is; say, mamma, he let me climb 
on his knee and tomb his turls, he did. Oh, mamma, isn’t 
our papa nice?” Marie clasped the happy little fellow 
to her bosom and replied: “Yes, darling, mamma thinks 
your papa nice. There goes the breakfast bell. Let us 
hasten below for Auntie Ruth is coming to-day.” 

The little fellow gave a glad shout and away he went 
on his crutch, while his mother joined him in a happy 
chase. 

Marie hesitatingly opened the door; and sure enough, 
her husband, for once in his life, had preceded her into 
the breakfast room and looked up as she entered with a 
pleasant “Good-morning.” Adjusting the curtain so as 
to let the beautiful sunlight stream into the room, she came 
and stood by him in the old familiar way and twined her 
hngers in the brown curls that clustered upon his brow. 
Earnest looked up into her face, and she saw a strange 


200 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


look in his eyes. Feeling some fear, she merely bowed her 
head and imprinted a kiss upon his forehead and took 
her seat at the table. “Oh, papa!” exclaimed Earnie, 
“my Auntie Ruth is tumin to-day, her is! Won’t that be 
jolly, papa?” 

Earnest Stocklaid did not heed his child’s words, but 
seemed to be lost in thought. At length Marie said: 
“Come, husband, your coffee is getting cold. Do you 
not wish for breakfast this morning?” Still he did not 
speak, but got up and wandered aimlessly about the room. 

Mrs. Stocklaid did not understand his mood, but had 
grown used to any spell that might possess him, and did 
not press him for a reason as to his feelings. She and 
.Earnie ate their breakfast in silence. 

After a time he snatched up his hat as if in a hurry and 
rushed out of the house and then downtown, as was his 
usual habit. Soon as Marie had arisen from the table, 
she ordered the carriage to be sent for Ruth. A messen- 
ger had brought Ruth’s card the evening before announc- 
ing her arrival at the Palace Hotel. In a way she dreaded 
the arrival of her old friend an demploye, for the thought 
of presenting little Earnie with his deformed body seemed 
dreadful to her. In the years gone by, even before she had 
consented to become the wife of Earnest Stocklaid, Ruth 
had warned her what posterity might become from such 
a union. It was a regret to present him as he was. She 
mastered her pride, however, and led the little man into the 
room and introduced him to her guest. 

Ruth Mansfield took the boy upon her knee and looked 
tenderly into his brown eyes. She caressed his high, noble 
brow with the wealth of chestnut curls clustering about it, 
and then covering the birthmark with her handkerchief, 
pressed a kiss upon the little rosebud mouth just as he 
whispered: “My Auntie Ruth.” The ordeal was over 


SINS OF THE FATHER. 


201 


and Marie threw her arms about the girl and sobbed 
upon her bosom. 

‘‘Oh, Ruth,” she said, “you told me how it would be 
and I might have saved my child from such a fate; but 
I would not listen. Tell me, how can my darling boy go 
through life with that blight upon him?” 

Ruth took the hand that was extended to her, the same 
one that had so often been withdrawn in disdain, and 
affectionately pressed it to her lips. “Marie, dear, fear not 
for your boy’s outward affliction, for this might have come 
to him from any other source than through his father, but, 
Marie, the blood of a drunkard surges through his veins 
and it is the appetite and proclivities of the child over 
which you need to lament; it is the spirit, not the flesh.” 

Marie gathered her son to her bosom and tenderly 
caressed him ere she spoke. “Ruth,” she said, “how can 
a spirit so lovely and gentle as that of my child be anything 
but good? Think you that I have any cause to fear?” 

Ruth paused for a moment as if to get her thoughts 
in order, for what she wished to speak about was for the 
future benefit of this tender, loving mother. Then she 
began: “Marie, did you ever think what sort of a child 
his father must have been?” 

“Oh, yes,” Marie had thought of it, and taking her com- 
panion by the hand, led her to a portrait that hung in full 
life size upon the walls of the drawing room. There was 
a merry, laughing boy, just brimming full of mischief, 
whose very soul was in his eyes as he looked back at them 
from the canvas. The exact counterpart of the child that 
now clung to Ruth’s finger — one would almost suppose 
it to be the same. 

“And this was Earnest, Marie?” 

“Yes, dear; don’t you think my son bears a striking 
resemblance to his father?” 


202 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


“Yes, it is a very remarkable one and 1 do not wonder 
that you are such a devoted mother, for no such repro- 
duction could have been except through your perfect love 
for its progenitor. Thus you see, dear mother, that thia 
little spirit, the offspring of perfect love, is of God; and 
God is good, not evil. It is only children begotten with- 
out love whose very existence but tends toward darkness 
instead of light. So you see, Marie, that you have much 
to build upon in the character of your child.” She pointed 
to the portrait and said ; “That merry, laughing boy who 
seems as you look at him so angelic and pure, even he, 
the father of your child, fell and became a drunkard. Can 
you hope for anything better in Earnie?” 

Marie caught her son to her bosom, while a wave of 
agonizing grief swept over her soul, and she cried: “Oh, 
Ruth! I love my child, but rather than see him as his 
father is I would gladly- give him up to the grave. Tell 
me, what can I do to save him from such a wretched 
life?” 

“Set your fortifications around his weakness, Marie, 
and begin to build up character in him that he may be 
able to withstand temptation. Your work must be ‘pre- 
cept upon precept, precept upon precept; line upon line, 
line upon line; here a little, and there a little,’ according 
to the instructions given by the grand old prophet, 
Isaiah, who has indeed shown us by his teachings just 
how to fortify the generations against the curse of drink.” 

Winding her arms about Ruth, Marie led her back to 
her seat and in a spirit of unutterable tenderness, said: 
“Dear Ruth, I am so glad you have come! You have 
ever been my good angel and had I listened to your kind, 
motherly counsel what a world of sorrow I should have 
been saved. But, dear one, my life is not yet all lived. 


SINS OF THE FATHER. 


203 


and perhaps there is time to profit somewhat by your 
teachings and blessed counsel. 

“First of all, Ruth, before we arrive at the real work 
wherein I need your help, explain to me more fully the 
meaning of prenatal influences and the law that governs 
heredity.” 

Ruth smiled with satisfaction, for above all she wished 
to say just these things to this dear mother, and she began. 

Drawing Earnie to her side, she explained: “There 
are volumes of scientific thoughts upon this subject which 
it will do you good to read, but just now I will take delight 
in unfolding a little of this truth to you.” Laying her 
finger gently upon the birthmark of the child, she said: 
“This dear, can not properly be called an inherited like- 
ness, and yet it was placed there through the conduct 
of the father and might be handed down to the progeny 
of the child. You must understand that that passage of 
the written law where Moses said, ‘The sins of the fathers 
shall be visited upon the children,’ is fully exemplified in 
this case. It was the environment that the father threw 
around you that is here reflected in your child. 

“This is manifested in the flesh, but the same law which 
put this here can also place a stamp upon the soul. For 
instance, that thing of which you stand in mortal fear, 
coming suddenly upon you, is stamped upon the flesh; 
but were it to come upon you moderately, giving you time 
to repulse it mentally, it would leave its impress upon the 
soul of your child. 

“So it is often true that a child whose progenitors are 
perfectly free from loathsome taints, such as licentiousness 
and a tendency to alcoholics and tobacco, may have had 
a propensity for vice placed in its spirit by the mother 
because of unhappy environments thrown around her. 
For instance, a mother said to me not long ago: ‘My 


204 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


son is a tobacco fiend; explain to me, if you can, how it 
can be so, since there has never been a tobacco usei m 
all our generations.’ When questioned to ascettziin 
whether he had acquired the habit by foolhardy indul- 
gence, she said: ‘Oh, no, from his birth he ha3 had an 
insatiable love for the weed, and it has simply beer beyond 
my power to prevent him from its use.’ 

“Carefully inquiring into her state during the: time of 
her pregnancy, she explained that her environments had 
been of the most loathsome sort. She was obliged daily 
to endure the fumes of tobacco from an agf.d person who 
had been left to her charge. 

“Thus, dear Marie, you can see that these things come 
both from environment, also from inheritance. That 
thing which is exceedingly loathsome, ns well as peculiar- 
ly agreeable to the mother, may leave its imprint upon 
either the body or the spirit of the child unborn. 

“But I would not linger on the picture of evil propensi- 
ties, for I can see written within the depths of your child’s 
soulful eyes many happy environment.:: which have come 
from your life, even before and after his birth. Yes, I 
can see from his gentle spirit and deep, intellectual face 
that your teachings have been such as will have a ten- 
dency to crush the evil, and upon its foundation you can 
build up a character that will thwart the forces of trans- 
mitted law.” 

Marie sat an eager auditor to it all, greedily devouring 
the words as they fell from the woman’s lips. As Ruth 
ceased speaking, Marie said: “There is one other point 
which you have not yet made plain to me. What is the 
matter with Earnie’s knee? How could it have been 
deformed?” 

Ruth smiled wisely as her hand rested upon the little 
boy’s crutch, and replied: “The law which governs that 


! 

SINS OF THE FATHER. 205 

part of your child’s misfortune, Marie, is a simple one, 
but in order to make it plain I must recall the painful 
memory of its occasion You remember that day when 
your husband appeared before you in a drunken condi- 
tion, giving you a horrible fright? The sound of his un- 
natural voice and the sight of his wounded head were 
telegraphed to your soul and body at one and the same 
instant. It first struck your brain, which is the seat of 
thought, and then went quivering over your being, 
telegraphing the horror to every nerve in your body. 
Extending downward, it enveloped your child and had 
reached as far as your knee when reason forsook her 
throne, throwing down the wires and making the greatest 
jungle of confusion at the point where the message ter- 
minated. If you remember, when you arose you could 
not walk, as there Was no strength in your knee. Had 
you have understood the law at the moment of your 
shocking encounter you could by vital force have broken 
the condition of the shock and saved your child. But 
this is now done, Marie, and you have the dear little fel- 
low just as he is. Make the most of him. Arguments 
and tears can not change his case, nor make one hair of 
his head change color. He is with you, all your own, and 
a beautiful boy, too. God has placed within your care and 
keeping this precious sOul. Will you train him for hell 
or Heaven, for darkness or for light? It rests with you 
whether he will be a blessing or a curse in the world. 
Yes, it is for you whether or no your child will be an 
honor to his country and a glory to his God. A mother’s 
teaching invariably frames the destiny of the child’s soul.” 

“I see the force of your arguments, dear Ruth,” said 
Marie, “and I feel as I long have felt, that there is some- 
thing lacking in my Christian experience to make me a 
perfect mother. I do not know what I can do to enlarge 


206 RUTH AND MARIE, 

my capacity for holiness, or to bring me to that point 
where I can more ably and perfectly fulfill my mission 
to my child. 

“I have been faithful to my church and have never once 
omitted making a full confession of all my sins. I have 
given largely to the support of the gospel and have tried 
to teach Earnie the catechism in all faithfulness of heart. 
If I have not kept the whole law, then, dear Ruth, I do 
not know it, for I have done the best I could. What 
would you counsel me to do further? Tell me, what is 
the course you would mark out for me to pursue?” 

A peculiarly tender, holy awe was in Ruth voice as she 
replied: “Other foundation can.no man lay than that 
which is laid, which is Christ Jesus. A mother has but 
one safeguard, Marie, and that is in the Bible and prayer. 
Have you established a family altar in your home where 
Earnie, your husband, and your servants can kneel with 
you as you read from that blessed book? Do you let 
Jesus come right into your heart and abide with you in 
all the fullness of His love so that the world may know 
from the joy that shines in your face that He is in you and 
you in Him?” 

A crimson glow diffused the lips and brow of the young 
mother as she frankly made answer: “No, Ruth, I do 
not believe that Holy One has ever come into my heart. 
Once when I was in deep sorrow I tried to pray as I have 
heard you pray, but the heavens were as brass above my 
head and God was far beyond the hearing of my feeble 
voice. And feeling that I must bear my grief alone, I 
kissed the crucifix and came back to the prayers of my 
church and have tried to be content. I put the Bible 
which you gave me away and hardened my heart to all 
your religious instructions, and since that day have not 
again* allowed its approach.” Arising, she went and 


SINS OP THE FATHER. 


207 


brought the Holy Book, Ruth’s present to her some years 
before, and said: “Open it for me, dear girl, for if there is 
comfort and light between these lids for me, that I may 
better understand my duty to my child, then I must know 
it for myself.” 

Opening the book to the fifteenth chapter of John’s 
Gospel, Ruth began and expounded the truth as it is writ- 
ten in all the fullness of His promises. And then turning 
page after page of the book, she revealed, in all tender- 
ness, the spirit of Christ, dwelling at great length upon 
His promises to come in and abide with us and keep us 
from sin. 

Most firmly did she impress upon the woman’s mind the 
fact that He is an ever-present Savior. Then she asked: 
“Marie, do you believe God’s word?” 

“Yes, Ruth, I do believe.” 

Then said she: “Take His promises and believe that 
God and His holy messengers of light are here. Yes, 
and the blessed Virgin, too, with that innumerable com- 
pany of angels to hear and answer prayer. The heavens 
are not brass, as you may suppose; neither is that Blessed 
One, who went away to send the ‘Comforter,’ so far re- 
moved from earth as you think. He is even here to-day, 
Marie, waiting to bestow upon you the gift of His holy 
spirit, who will come in and abide with you every day and 
hour if you will only let Him.” 

Mrs. Stocklaid was weeping, and a broken spirit gave 
evidence of her willingness to let the Lord of Heaven take 
possession of her heart. The two knelt there in prayer 
with the precious little boy, who had one arm about each 
neck. The pleading of Ruth’s soul as it looked out from 
her eyes was more eloquent than words, and the spirit 
that went forth to meet a soul that was yielding to His 
touch was, at that moment, sublime with a Savior’s love; 


208 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


and Marie yielded to its power. Kneeling .there with their 
arms twined around each other, God came down to meet 
the tired soul and to lift the burden from her life. Arising 
from their knees, a spirit of irradiation beamed from her 
countenance and gave evidence that she was indeed “born 
again,” and Marie Stocklaid had taken one step upward 
in her Christian experience. 


“Thus the weary days of watching, 
And the nights of ceaseless care 
That had tortured so her being 
And had filled her with despair, 
Now were laid upon the altar 
For the Lord to bear away; 

While a soul could sing triumphant 
In the light of perfect day.” 



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4 




CHAPTER XXL 


FALSELY ACCUSED. 

Marie Stocklaid stood before her elegant dressing case 
with a surprised look upon her face. Things were scat- 
tered about the room in great confusion, and the apart- 
ment looked as though it had been invaded by robbers. 
In her hand she held her empty jewel case, which she had 
just picked up from the floor. 

It took her some time to collect her thoughts and to 
come to an understanding of what had happened to her 
treasures. 

At last it dawned upon her that every jewel from her 
case had disappeared. What could have become of them? 
She knew for a certainty that there had been no one in 
her room that morning but herself, her husband, and 
Jeanetta, the nurse girl, whom she had had ever since 
little Earnie’s birth. She seemed to suspect the girl, for 
who else<coiild have done this wicked deed? 

Had this have been the first thing she had missed from 
the house she would not have felt so bewildered; but 
mystery upon mystery seemed to envelop the place and 
she was becoming desperate. Surely there must be an 
end somewhere and she felt this morning as though this 
must be the culminating point of the thievish outrages 
that had been perpetrated upon her, and some one must 
be brought to justice. 

Giving the bell a sharp ring for Jeanetta, the girl came 
rushing breathlessly into her presence to know what was 
the matter. Beholding the look! upon the face of her 


212 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


mistress, and taking in the situation at a glance, she ex- 
claimed: “May the holy saints guard us, my lady! Who 
has entered your room?” 

Giving the girl a sharp look, she replied: “Jeanetta, 
you know very well that there has not a soul entered my 
room this morning but yourself, and now I command you 
to bring back my jewels at once or I shall immediately 
summon an officer and have you taken to the police 
station.” 

The girl’s face at once grew crimson with fright and 
then pale. Truly no culprit ever looked more guilty than 
she at that moment. Marie felt certain she was the of- 
fender. 

“I will give you just five minutes, Jeanetta, to bring 
back my jewels or I will send for an officer and have you 
arrested.” 

Falling upon her knees before the imperious woman, 
Jeanetta clung to her skirts and asked for mercy. “I am 
innocent, Mrs. Stocklaid. I pray you believe what I say. 
Do you think me to be a thief? Remember I love you 
and please remember my poor sick mother. Do you 
suppose that I would steal your lovely jewels and break 
my mother’s heart? Oh, my lady, I havfe not touched 
them, or even been tempted to do so.” 

To this appeal Marie was deaf, for she was convinced 
by the girl’s manner that she was guilty of the theft. 
Therefore, stepping to the telephone, she called an of- 
ficer and Jeanetta was hurried off to the station amidst 
tears of protestations of innocence and the screams of 
little Earnie, who clung to the officer, pounding him with 
his baby fists and persistently demanding that he “Let his 
Nettie alone.” 

At one time in Marie’s life this morning’s work would 
have made but little impression on her conscience, but at 


FALSELY ACCUSED. 


213 


this time her mind was greatly disturbed and she thought: 
“Oh, if Jeanetta should be innocent, what an awful thing 
I have done.” 

She sat down to her embroidery with little Earnie sob- 
bing at her knee, but the stitches would not lie evenly 
and she put the work away; then she tried her favorite 
author, but the book had lost its fascination; she then 
took a walk in the grounds, but the bright sunlight of 
Heaven rebuked her and smote sorely upon her con- 
science. Again she thought about Jeanetta down in the 
damp, dark city prison, and she fell to wondering if it 
was really Jeanetta who took the things after all. Inad- 
vertently she found herself back in her own room. 
Earnie was close at her side and would not be banished 
from her presence. Tears came to her eyes and she 
slipped down upon her knees by the bedside and prayed 
aloud. She plead that God would show her what to do; 
that if she were in the wrong to convince her of it and 
she would go at once and bring Jeanetta from the prison. 

Earnie put his arms tightly about his mamma’s neck 
and shouted: “Tell it to Auntie Ruth, mamma! Tell it 
to Auntie Ruth ! Her will show you how !” 

What a comforting thought! She lifted the little fel- 
low in her arms and tenderly kissed him, then hastened 
away to order her carriage. 

Strange that she should not have thought of Ruth be- 
fore instead of acting upon her own impulse. In a few 
moments she was in close consultation with the sage 
adviser, Ruth Mansfield, who had proven herself to be 
scarcely ever in the wrong. As she listened, Ruth’s face 
assumed a knowing look, as much as to say, ’T have my 
opinion of • whom the culprit may be.” Arising, she 
donned her bonnet and wraps and said to Mrs. Stocklaid; 


214 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


“I will go with you and see if we can not find the missing 
jewels.” 

Taking their seats in the carriage, Ruth gave the order 
and a search began. Up one street and down another 
and round about in the various places where it might be 
possible to find them they went until they had visited 
nearly every pawnbroker’s establishment in the city. Then 
Marie began to think that Ruth had made a vain search, 
when the girl said to the coachman: “Now to Uncle 
Harris’, on Kearney street.” 

That rich old man who had been the recipient of treas- 
ures for many years, smilingly came forward as they en- 
tered his place of business and said: “What can I do 
for you, ladies?” He did not often have one so elegantly 
attired as Mrs. Stocklaid enter his place and he was ex- 
ceedingly gracious. He was a shrewd business man and 
he gave Marie a searching look as much as to say: “Is 
it possible; have you some jewels which you wish to de- 
posit with me?” But Ruth was the spokesman. She said 
brightly: “Have you any diamonds on exhibition. Uncle 
Harris? We would like to look at them if you have.” 

The man gave them a keen, sharp look and said : “Wish 
to buy, eh?” Then he graciously showed them what he 
had in stock. 

None seemed to just suit the ladies, and with a decided- 
ly disappointed air they were about to turn away when the 
old man said, with his suspicions quite disarmed: “I 
have some superb jewels that I have just received this 
morning which have not yet been put upon exhibition; 
perhaps you would be glad to see them.” 

Stepping to a private drawer, he then exhibited the 
full set that had but recently left Marie’s own jewel case. 

The two ladies looked knowingly at each other and then 
at the man before them. 


FALSELY ACCUSED. 


215 


Ruth waited for him to speak, but as he waited in silence 
Miss Mansfield said: “Will you tell us, sir, who left 
these here?” 

Going to the book, the man came directly back and 
replied: “Earnest Stocklaid, madam.” 

Marie caught at Ruth’s arm for support and with a 
“Thank you, sir,” to the obliging pawnbroker, she said: 
“We will call again and decide about them.” Then the 
two ladies walked out of the store and once more took 
a seat in the carriage. 

“To the city prison,” said Marie to the coachman, now 
having regained her equilibrium. She was anxious to 
liberate poor Jeanetta. The coachman, having an inkling 
of the business on hand, gave a little low whistle, inaudi- 
ble to Marie’s ear, and cracking his whip, in three min- 
utes they stood at the entrance of the old city hall, be- 
neath which poor Jeanetta in a cold, gloomy cell was 
sobbing her eyes out, every moment growing more and 
more bitter at heart over the cruel wrong that had been 
done her. 

Ruth was about to step from the carriage to go in 
quest of the hapless girl, when Marie said: “No, Ruth, 
I will go, since it was my hasty act that made me wrong- 
fully do the girl injustice.” 

Ruth looked doubtfully into her face and said: “Marie, 
you will see some sad sights down there. You had bet- 
ter let me, who am accustomed to such scenes, go for 
you.” 

Mrs. Stocklaid shook her head, then walked into the 
office of the chief of police. 

Making her errand known, she said : “I was altogether 
too hasty in preferring charges against the child, and 
wish now to make what amends I can by coming myself 
to bring her away. I would like to be shown to her cell 


216 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


that I may the sooner tell that I have proven her innocent 
and am sorry for what I have done.” 

The face of the erudite administrator of the law as- 
sumed a look of stern severity as he frowned upon the 
woman and uttered the following rebuke: “You had bet- 
ter think twice, madam, before you send a young girl 
into that foul atmosphere!” Then speaking to an officer 
at his side, he said: “Show this woman below, and be 
sure you give her a fair sight of the inmates of the prison.” 

They passed down the corridor, pushing their way 
past a crowd of rough men, then descended a flight of 
stairs. Marie’s courage began to fail. Her limbs trem- 
bled and would barely support the weight of her body. 
Pausing for a moment at the bottom of the flight, she said 
to her escort: “Will you allow me, sir, to take your arm? 
For some reason I feel very shaky over this affair, and it 
is an effort for me to stand.” 

They soon stood before the great open bars. The 
turnkey came, opened the door and let them in. A chill 
ran over Marie’s body when she heard the key grate in 
the lock again and she knew that the strong bars were be- 
tween herself and the outer world. 

A look of wonder flitted over the face of the turnkey 
as he regarded the elegant contour of Mrs. Stocklaid 
and saw how heavily she leaned upon the man at her side 
for support. Marie thought she detected in the face of 
her guide a twinkle of merriment as he led her into the 
damp, foul atmosphere of the cold, dark city prison of 
San Francisco. To their right, as they passed in, there 
was a long row of cells. Behind these there cowered a 
multitude of souls which had been sent for various crimes 
by the hand of justice. Men from all stations in life, 
white, black, American and foreign born, were herded 
together in the same pen, awaiting trial for the various 


FALSELY ACCUSED. 


217 


crimes that they had committed. Near by, with only a 
screen to separate them, was a quarter of a hundred of 
women in various attitudes, with the visible mark of in- 
temperance written upon their faces. 

One mother held to her breast a sucking child as she 
reclined on a bench in drunken stupor. There, right in 
the center of the pen, stretched at full length, were half 
a dozen completely overmastered by rum. Crawling 
over the bodies, around and under the stretchers upon 
which the women lay, was vermin and even rats.* 

A sickening horror was stealing over Marie’s senses. 
She was about to turn away, when something familiar in 
the face of one of the women caused her to pause again. 
Yes, sure enough, she knew her. It was Polly Hopkins, 
who had once been a servant in her father’s house. Her 
dusky face had at one time in her life looked pure and 
good. It now looked bloated and besotted with the fires 
of alcohol. She was saying to her drunken associates: 
“Come on! Come on! I am able to fight that old 
Leviathan, the devil, and I can thrash the floor with the 
best one of you!” 

All at once she became conscious that there was a vis- 
itor present and in an instant she became as docile as a 
lamb and stood with her face pressed against the bars, 
while the tears ran down like rain over her dusky cheek. 

She reached out her hand, and taking that of Mrs. 
Stocklaid’s, pressed it to her rum-polluted lips, saying 
as she did so: “Oh, Miss Marie, won’t you be my missis 
once more? I wouldn’t be here, honey, if I had a good 
missis.” 

Strength now came to Marie’s limbs and a wish began 
to burn in her soul that it might be in her power to save 

*A fact which even exists to-day in the prison at San I>a3- 
cisco. 


218 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


these awful wrecks and wretches before her. Mastering 
herself, she said: ‘Tolly, when you get out from here 
and are free from drink come to me and I will talk to you.” 

“Oh, Miss Marie, how good you be! But it will be a 
long time before I am out again, but I’ll remember your 
word and come some day.” 

Passing on, Marie saw a host of boys ranging in ages 
from nine to fifteen years. They were smoking cigar- 
ettes with a “don’t care air” about them that resembled 
the spirit of total depravity more than anything else she 
had ever met before. Oh how her heart ached to save 
those boys ! She thought of her own little Earnie, sitting 
out in the carriage with Ruth, and what she would suffer 
were he behind these bars. 

They passed on from cell to cell and she saw the full- 
ness of suffering in human souls. She heard the ribald 
jests and bacchanalian songs from the lips of those yet 
under the influence of drink, and her spirit grew fierce 
to fight the giant, rum, which could so debase the human 
soul and bring it low as this. 

Looking up into the face of the officer by her side, she 
said: “They did not bring Jeanetta to this awful place?” 

“Surely, madam.” 

“Then take me to her at once. I will take her into 
the free, pure atmosphere of home, where she may forget, 
if possible, these awful sounds.” 

In a moment she stood at Jeanetta’s cell at the left of 
the corridor from the entrance. Here sat Jeanetta sob- 
bing as though her heart would break. The door swung 
back and Marie went in. Taking the girl she said: “Poor 
Jeanetta, innocent and good! I am sorry that I mis- 
judged you. Come with me.” 

The aggrieved child, glad to see any friend at this mo- 
ment, buried her face in Mrs. Stocklaid’s bosom and was 


FALSELY ACCUSED. 


219 


comforted. As they came up out of the horrible pit into 
God’s free air of heaven, she said: “Oh, Mrs. Stock- 
laid, that awful hell of which Sister Monica has taught 
us can not be more dreadful than that place where I have 
been.” 

Earnie put his arms around “his Nettie’s” neck and 
laughed for joy to have her back again. He said: “Bad 
old blue coat! We don’t hke him, do we, Nettie?” 



/ 




PEACEFUL WATERS. 










CHAPTER XXII. 


THE RUM FIEND. 

In the solitude of her own room Marie sat and pon- 
dered. This was a heinous thing which her husband had 
done and she now thought, without doubt, that all the 
missing articles from the mansion could be traced to him, 
as her jewels had been. How to approach him she knew 
not, for she was afraid of him ; but she knew this thieving 
work must be stopped. To this her mind was made up, 
and she prayed that that blessed spirit which electrified 
her being and quickened all her mental powers would 
teach her what to do. 

When evening came, as they sat down to dinner, Marie 
poured the tea and then began to regard her husband 
with unusual scrutiny. How he had changed in the past 
five years. The beautiful curls that once clustered so 
beautifully around his temples were now unkempt and 
streaked with gray. His finely chiseled features were 
growing rough and coarse; his eyes that had sparkled 
with mellow luster were now dim and bleared. 

Earnest Stocklaid of to-day bore little or no resemblance 
to the elegant, noble young man who had won her heart 
in far-off Germany. The gentle wife forgot her duty as 
she sat gazing upon the wreck of her once cherished hope. 
She knew that she, too, had faded and she was wandering 
back through the wreck of years to find, if she .could, all 
that she had missed. She saw that her loss was an irre- 
trievable one. 

At length she was startled from her reverie by a snarl 


222 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


from the object of her thoughts, who said: “What are 
you gazing at me in that way for? What have I done to 
merit your displeasure?” 

Marie came back to herself, and while a crimson glovv^ 
mantled her cheek and brow, she replied: “You have 
done enough. Earnest, to merit the displeasure of all good 
and honorable people. You have put yourself on a level 
with the felon and deserve at this moment to be put be- 
hind the prison bars.” 

Affecting the direst ignorance of her meaning, he re- 
peated: “Why, what have I done to deserve such biting 
words from your lips, Marie?” 

And if the wife had not known to the contrary, she 
would have thought the poor wretch most innocent of the 
charge she was about to make. 

Jeanetta was standing at the back of her mistress’ chair. 
This was the first inkling that she had as to whom had 
perpetrated the theft. Her astonishment was most over- 
whelming as she listened to the following words: “What 
have you done? Sir, you have stolen and bartered my 
jewels. You have robbed the mansion of its silver and . 
many valuable articles. You have squandered my for- 
tune. Ever since the day when I gave you my hand in 
marriage you have been working to bring disgrace upon 
yourself and family. Your face is bent to ruin, and unless 
you turn from your downward course a few years more 
will place you in a felon’s cell and the disgrace of a father’s 
dishonored life will rest upon his son as he comes up to 
manhood. To-night I call you to halt, and unless you 
shape your conduct differently in the future, you and I 
must exist in a separate sphere, for I have now suffered 
the end of the law of forbearance.” 

To say that he. Earnest Stocklaid, flew into a passion 
would be but a feeble expression of his demonstration. 


THE RUM FIEND. 


223 


Such horrible oaths! Such reckless hurling of missiles! 
Such crashing and smashing of china from the table is 
only the work of a mad man as he raged about the room. 
The fine tissues of the man’s brain, so long permeated by 
alcohol, was on fire, and the tension of reason, now 
stretcheckto its utmost, gave way, and Earnest Stocklaid 
had indeed gone mad. 

Jeanetta had taken little Earnie and fled from the scene 
but poor Marie lay upon the floor, having been knocked 
senseless by a plate which he had hurled at her head. 

The gardener and Dan, the coachman, rushed in at 
the sound of confusion and quietly took the mad man 
from the house. The servants lifted Marie tenderly and 
laid her upon the bed. A physician was summoned. 
Upon his arrival he found Earnie screaming at the top 
of his voice and shouting: “My poor mamma is killed! 
My poor mamma! Poor mamma!” 

It was quite an hour before Marie could be restored 
to consciousness, then quiet again settled down upon the 
family. Long and earnestly that night Marie thought 
as she lay upon her bed. She was making a review of 
her life up to this period. She had not yet rounded 
her twenty-eighth birthday, but somehow time had 
stretched out into a dreary pile of years as she lay there 
contemplating the past and looking at the future. What 
horrible years hers had been! Must her whole life be 
like the past? For a time a deep spirit of bitterness crept 
into her soul. . She felt that Fate, ordered by the hand 
of God, was merciless, and she was blaming her Creator. 
At last she began, as with a tracing line, to travel back 
over the past decade of years. One after another she 
dwelt upon the events of her life and felt self-righteous 
as she comforted her soul and told herself she had done 
the best she could. But by and by she paused. There 


224 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


she had been in far-of¥ Germany reveling over the wine 
cup, closely nestled at the side of Earnest Stocklaid, as 
they sat long at the dinner table. She again saw Ruth 
standing over against the wall with a pleading look in her 
eyes, asking her to desist. Once more she felt that spirit 
of abandonment and heard her own voice as sh^ was say- 
ing to Earnest: “A young man that must be obligated 
by a pledge to keep from taking a sup of wine is un- 
worthy the consideration of any gentle woman's notice.” 
Heard him reply: “Oh, Miss Earnestine, give it to me. I 
can not bear your scorn.” And then her own jeweled hand 
pressed the cup to his lips. Who was to blame? Earnest 
Stocklaid had broken his pledge obligated to his mother 
and his God, and had fallen by her own hand. She saw 
it all now more forcibly than at any previous time in her 
life, and she wondered why, why she had been so blind 
and deaf ds to the results of the wine cup. 

Why was she blaming God for her fate? Shame cov- 
ered her with confusion. She arose from her bed, knelt 
down by its side and prayed for pardon, while she 
acknowledged to her God that her fate had been just 
what she had made it. 

There on bended knee she thought of her husband, 
a rum fiend, abandoned to drink and crime, and accused 
herself of his downfall. She thought how- lost he was 
to God, and she prayed the avenging spirit to have mercy 
upon his soul. 

Where was Earnest at that moment? Had his reason 
forsaken him? Was it a temporary freak of madness 
that had caused him -to rage as he had done that night, or 
was it permanent? 

“Oh, God!” she prayed, “save my husband from the 
awful sins of his life and give him back to me as pure as 
he was that day before I tempted him to drink!” 


THE RUM FIEND. 


225 


Then she wondered why she had never prayed for his 
conversion before. “God is merciful,” she said, “and 
maybe my prayers are not too late to be elYectual in his 
case.” Creeping back into bed, she hugged her boy to 
her bosom, bathing his brown curls with tears until break 
of day. 

When morning dawned Aunt Langsford came and 
stood by her bedside. The dear old lady’s face was red 
from weeping. She bent over her niece. Her own arm, 
which had been bruised by a blow from Earnest as she 
had come between the two, was tied up in a sling. She 
said : “Poor Marie! I have been thinking of you all night, 
and I want to tell you, dear, that I am sorry I ever urged 
you to marry Earnest Stocklaid. I have lived to see that 
there are a good many places in life where money will not 
carry you through.” 

Marie took the hand of her aunt and thought the time 
auspicious to tell her that her fortune was well nigh spent. 
She also told her many things concerning Earnest’s 
profligate ways which the aunt did not know, and was 
horrified beyond expression. Ruth heard the worst and 
came to comfort. A look of sadness such as Marie had 
not seen before rested upon her face and her eyes were 
dim with tears as she bent over the stricken body of her 
friend. At length she asked: “Marie, are you able to 
rise? I need your company for a little time.” 

The lady raised upon her elbow and looked inquiringly 
into Ruth’s face. “What is it, dear? Is anything wrong 
with Earnest?” 

“Yes, Marie; the physician has summoned you to his 
office. Earnest has not recovered his reason and he 
must be kept in close confinement for a time.” 

A sorrowful look flit over the wife’s countenance and 
she arose from her bed ; but she did not weep. The foun- 


226 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


tain of her tears had been emptied long before day. Siie 
went and looked into the mirror. There upon her pale 
white brow was a great black mark that had been almost 
her death blow. She covered it with her hand and asked 
Ruth to dress her hair. Jeanetta brought some toast and 
a cup of tea, of which she partook, and then the two took 
their seats in the carriage and were driven to the new 
city hall. 

They went direct to the office of the commissioner for 
the insane. Then they waited but a moment, when Ear- 
nest was ushered into their presence, carefully guarded 
by two strong men. 

His eyes glared like those of an enraged tiger, and his 
wild, impulsive words, spoken with vehemence, testified 
that his madness was of no ordinary character. Marie 
burst into tears and went directly to him. With a wicked 
oath he attempted to spring upon her, but being restrained 
by the guard, gnashed his teeth, while the white foam is- 
sued from his lips in awful, awful madness. “Rum! 
Rum!” he cried. “Bring me the bowl or 1 shall go mad!” 
The wife veiled her eyes that she might not see his writh- 
ing and torture. 

The doctor wrote the certificate and the officers hur- 
ried him away to the asylum at Stockton. 

Poor, suffering humanity. Rum is a delusion and a 
snare. 

Who is trying to reduce this suffering? Men, the fath- 
ers of our country? No! Else long ago the white- 
winged ballot would have made us free. 

Christians, who kneel at the altar and pray for grace? 
Ah, no! not they; else the rum fiend would long ere this 
have run his race Who then cares for the sufferings of 
wives and mothers in our land? Ah, beloved, it is the 


THE RUM FIEND. 


227 


feeble, faithful few, whose votes and prayers and tears in 
truth do flow. 

God hasten the day when the weak shall be strong and able 
to stand, 

To banish the rum fiend from our beautiful land. 










‘‘•l-v\ttu..V‘'li 


















m 


m ^- '' 




I 


ARRANGING ^OR THE PARTY 





CHAPTER XXIIL 


HER FORTUNE SPENT. 

The city of San Francisco was ablaze with great flaming 
posters. Frances E. Willard, the renowned president 
of the World’s Woman’s Christian Temperance Union, 
was coming to the Pacific Coast on her mission of love 
for humanity. As Marie Stocklaid and her boon compan- 
ion, Ruth Mansfield, drove away from that splendid pile 
of masonry, the new city hall, beneath the roof of which 
so many good and evil turns are done for the people of 
the city, Ruth’s face was made to shine with gladness as 
she read the welcome announcement. 

Calling her friend’s attention to the notice, she said: 
“You must see her, Marie, that splendid woman; there 
is none greater on earth to-day. She will do you good.” 

Marie repeated her words and looked a little mystified. 
“None greater on earth? Why, Ruth, I would not think 
of saying that for Queen Victoria of England even. What 
has this woman done that you should call her great?” 

Ruth looked Mrs. Stocklaid full in the face, for she 
thought her to be jesting. But when she saw honest in- 
quiry in her eyes, she exclaimed: “Have you not heard 
of Frances Willard? Why, Marie, what a small world 
you have existed in not to be fajniliar with that household 
name. Frances Willard is president of the grandest army 
of women that the sun of heaven ever shone upon; an 
army of women who stand with battle-ax in hand, striking 
blow after blow at the very root of the liquor traffic. It 
is the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union.” 


230 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


Marie’s face betokened her gladness and she said: “May 
my eyes behold her glorious image and may my soul catch 
the spirit of her zeal as she pleads the cause near to my 
heart !” 

The day arrived. The Metropolitan Temple was re- 
splendent in the glory of its light. The auditorium was 
packed to overflowing with an eager, anxious crowd, who 
had come to see the woman that was turning the world 
upside down and bringing about the disruption of the 
organized liquor powers of America. The voices of that 
vast multitude made the air vibrate with gladness as 
everybody united in singing the national hymn, “Ameri- 
ca.” It was then that the noble Ruth Mansfield, in com- 
pany with Mrs. Marie Stocklaid, came down the aisle and 
took seats in the front of the platform. Many admiring 
glances from the populace were cast upon her as she 
entered. Ruth Mansfield was better known to-day than 
fifteen years ago, when she mounted the marble steps 
at Palace Earnestine in answer to an advertisement for 
waiting maid. 

What a wonderful evolution there had been in her life 
and character within the last ten years! But the change 
was not more noticeable in her than in the woman who sat 
by her side. She, Marie Stocklaid, had come to hear for 
the first time the code of principles advocated by the 
world’s president of the Woman’s Christian Temperance 
Union. Frances Willard was in full power, and her 
matchless eloquence held her audience spellbound. She 
made many to feel, when she began to unwind her ball 
of white ribbon that now belts the globe, binding together 
the motherhood of the nations of the world into one 
coalescent whole, that they had caught a glimpse of 
Heaven in her portrayal of the home. As she revealed 
the methods of the work and made her plea for the 


HER FORTUNE SPENT. 


motherhood of San Francisco to muster into line, Marie’s 
soul caught on fire and she said: “Lord, here I am; 
what wouldst Thou have me to do?” 

Immediately after the close of the address, and while 
the choir were singing the national anthem of the W. 
C. T. U., “For God and Home and Native Land,” a host 
of white-ribbon women arose and began to circulate the 
muster roll to increase the membership of their local so- 
ciety. Marie was first to write her name in clear, bold 
characters, and said as she did so : “I am ready with bat- 
tle-ax in hand to work for the overthrow of rum.” 

On the morrow tl^e sisterhood were to assemble at the 
state headquarters for conference and prayer with their 
national president. Marie’s soul was now on fire, she 
longed to have her inspiration ignite with other souls. 
In the true spirit of one called of God for the work, she 
spent her morning before the meeting in calling upon the 
Catholic women of her own church and told them of the 
glad message that had come to her soul. At the time ap- 
pointed for the conference the spacious parlors at head- 
quarters were filled to overflowing with the elite women 
of the city, who had come together to sit at the feet of 
their great leader in temperance work. 

When Miss Willard asked to have a special session of 
prayer with, those who wished to consecrate their lives and 
all their worldly possessions to. God and temperance work, 
Marie Stocklaid was the first to arise and come forward. 
Kneeling there with the hand of Frances Willard resting 
upon her head, she laid her all upon the altar for God 
and the blessed work of reform. A new world had opened 
up before the woman so grieved' and tired in spirit. She 
began to look beyond to catch a glimpse bf the sunshine 
that shone in the distance between the rifted clouds. But 
when she thought of her husband, chained in a maniac’s 


232 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


cell in the asylum at Stockton, and meditated upon the 
possible helplessness of the case, a spirit of sadness crept 
over her that could not be dispelled. Not even Ruth’s 
smile nor the new-found work could make her forget nor 
keep the canker worm from gnawing at her heart. Still 
she hoped and bravely pressed forward, embracing each 
day’s duty as it came. 

The time was now at hand when the mortgage on the 
Palace Earnestine had become due and was about to be 
foreclosed. Creditors clamored for their due. The dear 
woman was distracted as she thought of her strait and 
what the result of a final settlement Avould mean to her. 
She saw that her home was to be swept from under her 
and that she must go down and out into the world, a 
world that was laughing and rejoicing over her downfall. 
The day came for the sale and her business agent waited 
upon her for advice. He wished to know her will if any- 
thing could be saved from the wreck. She paused a mo- 
ment with downcast eyes and thought. At length she 
said : “Let it all go if need be, but save the Ranch Earn- 
estine. That was my mother’s dying bequest to me and 
I can not part with it unless I must; it will be all I will have 
with which to educate my boy.” There was a merry twinkle 
in the eye of Jack Halstead as he listened to her advice and 
thought what a happy surprise he held in store for her 
if things worked as he had planned. 

Evening came at last. Marie had been shut up in her 
room all day, excluding from her presence her nearest 
and dearest friends — not even Ruth had been permitted to 
see her face. But at length, after a long season of prayer, 
she came forth and a look of triumph rested upon her 
countenance as she took her accustomed place at the 
table to preside over the evening meal. Ruth had come 
to spend a week with her with the thought that perhaps 


HER FORTUNE SPENT. 


23S 


her presence might be some solace to her aching heart 
in this distressing hour when her home was slipping away. 

The family had repaired to the drawing room to enjoy 
this their last evening together in the mansion, when the 
card of Jack Halstead was sent up to Marie. 

Taking it in her hand, an agreeable look flitted over her 
face and she said to Jeanetta: “Show him into the room.” 
Then turning to Ruth, she continued: “We will now 
know the worst and the ordeal will soon be past.” 

The gentleman came in with the stride of a cavalier. 
He took the hand of Mrs. Stocklaid in his own powerful 
grip and said: “I hope you will pardon this late hour for 
business, madam, but I could not leave you in doubt 
until another day.” 

Then taking from his pocket a long written document, 
he. said: “Here is the bill of sale with the debit and credit, 
the final and entire settlement of the whole business.” 

Marie’s eyes ran down along the line and a puzzled 
look overspread her countenance as she said: “I don’t 
see anything about the Ranch Earnestine, Mr. Halstead.” 

After a while and a good deal of fumbling in his pocket, 
the mischievous fellow brought out another paper, which 
she eagerly scanned. This showed that the place so dear 
to her was free from debt. He then and there placed in 
her hands the net proceeds of the last year’s crop. Marie’s 
hand trembled and the paper shook so she could not read. 
At last she handed it back to him and asked: “Won’t 
you read it for me, Mr. Halstead? I am shaky to-night 
and strangely perplexed.” 

Taking the paper, he (complied with her request. Then 
at the conclusion she asked: “How did you save it. 
Jack?” 

How familiar her voice, sounded to him! Just as it 
had done when they were playfellows together! The 


234 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


man’s eyes moistened and he replied: “I have been 
guarding it, Marie, ever since that day when you and a 
pack of women went out and did away with the wine 
business. A lucky hit it was, Mrs. Stocklaid, for your 
raisins and grape food and other fruits will bring you, 
in a little time, a hundred per cent, more than the old wine 
product. Already you are even.” 

Then he told her how oft and repeatedly Earnest had 
tried to encumber the land, even as he had done with other 
property, but by much cunning and ingenuity he had 
saved it free from debt until this time. With much kind ap- 
preciation of her agent’s loyalty to her interests, she spoke 
her approval and thanked him in the name of her little 
son, who was at that moment hanging upon the man’s 
knees. Jack Halstead hesitated a moment and then said: 
“To make a clean breast of it, Mrs. Stocklaid, I may as 
well tell you that that crowd of female anarchists who 
went out that day, led on by the brave daughter of Judge 
Earnestine, and emptied fifty thousand dollars into the 
sea set me to thinking. 

“Finding your motive power to be a righteous one, I 
made up my mind that I would watch the product of the 
new crop and see how it compared in dollars and cents 
with the old; and I want to add that you have made 
a thorough convert of me to your principles of temper- 
ance. Believe me, that when an opportunity presents it- 
self, Jack Halstead means to cast his ballot on the side 
of temperance reform.” 

Turning to Ruth, he continued: “But I suppose Miss 
Mansfield would have me vote the labor ticket; eh. Miss 
Ruth, are you as cranky as ever upon that subject?” 

“Just as radical, Mr. Halstead, for I believe that it will 
yet be the ballots in the hands of the working men and 
women that will settle the temperance question.” 


'HER FORTUNE SPENT. 


23? 


Halstead’s face assumed an amused expression as he 
mockingly repeated: “Women vote! Ha! ha! Miss 
Mansfield, that is more fanatical than ever !” And then in 
a serious strain, he continued: “Don’t be sanguine, 
young lady. Why, the saloons of this country are sup- 
ported by the laboring men. Think you that blind men 
will ever vote like men who see?” 

“Capital is also supported by Labor,” replied Ruth. 
“But for all that, these brave men to whom we owe the 
progress of our country are counting their ballots against 
monopoly; and not only that, but they are laboring to- 
gether, a noble brotherhood, to put the ballot in the hand 
of woman, and when that day shall come we will show 
y®u what we shall do with the saloon.” 

“Ah, well,” said Jack, “you women folk always will 
have the last word.” Then making a grimace at her, ex- 
pressive of sour grapes, he continued: “And so you, 
Ruth, have become the right-hand supporter of Susan B. 
Anthony, have you?” 

“Just so, Mr. Halstead,” was her reply. “As old pioneers 
pass on, we younger and stronger women will fall into 
line and press on in the pathway which they have trod. 
Susan B. has fought and never yet cast a ballot; but I, 
Jack Halstead, shall cast the ballot and fight too — hotter 
and fiercer battles than those who have fought before me.” 

“What a pity. Miss Mansfield, that the Lord did not 
drop you down in male attire instead of making you to 
wear petticoats! Thunder and blazes! What a general 
you would have made!” 

“Don’t waste pity on me, sir, for I shall yet stand at the 
head of an army grander and of a more complex nature 
th-an any men have ever led. An army whose swords 
shall be words and whose bullets will be ballots cast by 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


the hand of women — and working women at that! Yes, 
sir! for woman’s power will some day be felt in politics.” 

“May the Lord deliver us from that day,” replied the 
man. “For I would not like to see my mother and sisters 
go with me to the polls to vote.” 

Ruth smiled pitifully back at him and replied: “Oh, in 
that time, Mr. Halstead, when woman has gained the right 
of suffrage — ay, when women have learned the power 
of the ballot (and there was something of sarcasm in her 
voice) we shall compel men to be cleaner and purer than 
they are to-day; then your sister and mother will be just 
as safe to go to the ballot box with you as you now are 
to walk to church with them or to spend your evenings 
in company with such strong-minded women as we. Ah ! 
believe me, sir, in that time you will be just as warmly con- 
verted to woman’s suffrage as you now are to the temper- 
ance reform.” 

Halstead’s face grew crimson at the mock insinuation, 
but not willing to concede the point, continued the dis- 
cussion. “But, I say, who will take care of the children 
when mothers spend their time running around the streets 
talking politics to men and going to the ballot box? I 
suppose husbands will have to stay by the cradle side 
then?” 

“Oh, Mr. Halstead, bring a new theory. That absurdity 
has long ago been exploded! Why, sir, women have a 
more systematic way of doing things than you men, and 
we shall not have to go about the streets with arguments 
to convert the polluted manhood or to buy their ballots, 
for we are already united upon the great issues of the day. 
And so far as taking care of the children is concerned, I 
presume they will fare qiiite as well as they now do since 
mothers have had to become the breadwinners for their 


HER FORTUNE SPENT. 


237 


children and drunken husbands. Why, sir, only a few 
weeks ago, Marie and I spent nearly a whole day looking 
up the misdeeds of one poor inebriate husband; and I 
assure you, sir, it would not have taken a quarter of that 
time to have cast our ballot against the saloon and for the 
protection of humanity.” 

“Well,” said Jack Halstead, as he arose to go, “when 
the time shall come that woman has the ballot, my heart 
will be open to conviction. But believe me. Miss Mans- 
field, your head will be crowned with age long before that 
day, you may depend.” 

Ruth’s incredulous smile as he bowed himself out gave 
evidence of her unshaken faith in the political develop- 
ment of woman, and she said to Marie as soon as the door 
had closed behind him: 

“The day of woman’s advancement is nearer at hand 
than we think and I, for one, am looking for a higher 
civilization for our sex in the next few years. When the 
ballot is placed in the hand of woman, our national diffi- 
culties will soon be settled. The church and state stand 
divided, and the next thing to religion in politics is the 
ballot in the hands of the wives and mothers of the 
country.” 

“You say wives and mothers, Ruth; what would you 
do with the unmarried women? Would you leave yourself 
out of the question?” asked Marie. Ruth smiled as she 
answered: “Oh, no, I count myself on the side of the wife 
and motherhood of America, for I some day hope to fill 
both the honored spheres.” 

“Well, then,” she replied, “you had better be about it. 
The truth is, Ruth, you are such a matter-of-fact girl that 
a man would fear to ask your hand in marriage lest he 
be rejected.” 

“Fear to ask my hand in marriage?” repeated Ruth 


238 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


triumphantly. Why, Marie, you are paying me greater 
compliment than you think. Indeed, that above all things 
is the very thought which I wish to impress upon the mind 
and conscience of men. When women will learn the secret 
of self-protection from the rougher sex, and by a spirit of 
wonxanliness buffet their advances, then we shall not have 
so many mismated people and unhappy homes in the 
world. And the man that is fortunate enough to marry 
Ruth Mansfield will be the one that is willing to wait 
until I am ready to ask his hand in marriage.” 

Marie arose and looked down into Ruth’s mellow, dark 
eyes to see whether she were in earnest or jesting. 

“Oh,” said she, “I am in honor true and am willing to 
repeat the assertion if you do not understand.” 

Marie took the girl’s hand in her own and exclaimed: 
“Good gracious, Ruth! How you do startle the world 
with your new departures. What will that day bring forth 
when woman shall ask the plighted troth of man?” 

Not waiting for Marie to finish her remarks, Ruth re- 
plied: “That day, Mrs. Stocklaid, will bring higher civili- 
zation to mankind. When woman can select from among 
men, the father of her children, even as man now does 
from among women, w^e shall have better and holier 
people in the world; for woman with her perfect moral 
character and intuitiveness, woman with her clear insight 
into the nature and propensities of men, will inevitably 
seek a union from the standard' of her own high and noble 
character. I do not believe as a rule that a man has any 
God-ordained right to ask a woman’s hand in marriage. 
But whether he has or not, I believe that the time has 
come in the world’s history when a change from the old- 
time custom would work for the betterment and spiritual 
uplifting of all civilized society, even as it has for the physi- 
cal culture of the savage. I repeat it, Marie, the time has 


HER FORTUNE SPENT. 


239 


come when society should permit woman to make her 
own choice of a husband and not sit down and wait for 
Tom, Dick or Harry to come and ask her hand in mar- 
riage. I feel gratified to know that my conduct has been 
so correctly ordered toward men that one would fear to 
ask me for the bestowal of myself.” 

Marie kissed the lips and brow of the beautiful woman 
whose deep and earnest thoughts and deeds were, in a 
measure revolutionizing society in the world in which 
she lived and bringing to pass a better and higher civiliza- 
tion for women ; and she said : “Come, dear Ruth, I am 
waiting to hear your congratulations. God has been 
better to me than my fears and I am not entirely penniless 
after all.” 

Ruth arose from her seat and very tenderly pressed 
the hand of the gentle woman and expressed her delight 
that her beautiful villa, the Ranch Earnestine, had been 
left intact and free from debt. Then she gently drew her 
to a seat and said: “My dear Marie, my heart has gone 
out to you in this sore trial through which you have been 
passing, and be assured of my warmest sympathy. Me- 
thinks I can see the hand of God directing your earthly 
affairs for your own best good. In many ways you have 
a noble soul, but God has seen in you a will that could 
neither bend nor break, and in order that your spirit might 
be softened and a higher and nobler love for humanity 
come into your heart, you have had to pass through this 
fiery furnace of affliction. So now, my dear, as you turn 
a new page in your life’s book, let it be written thereon 
that frojn henceforth Marie Stocklaid’s life shall be de- 
voted to the betterment of humanity instead of to riches. 



✓ 


NEW HOME. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


FROM MANSION TO COTTAGE. 

The family had withdrawn and the two women were 
left alone. Marie brought the hassock and seated her- 
self at Ruth’s knee, then looking up with the trustfulness 
of a child into her mild, dark eyes, she said: “Dear Ruth, 
when to-morrow’s sun shall shine I must arise and take 
my departure from this place, which has been my home 
ever since the day I was born. Every inch of the dear 
old house, from cellar to dome, is fraught with pleasant 
memories, and is sacred as it can be. The very room in 
which I shall sleep to-night is the place where I was born. 
From that room my mother’s spirit took its flight and 
winged its way to another world. In that room my 
precious boy first opened his eyes to see the light of 
day. There I have wept my bitterest tears and known 
my sweetest joys. And now, no matter what my regret 
may be, I must give it up and go away, leaving it all to 
strangers. - But, Ruth, don’t weep, for to-day in the quiet 
of my room I knelt at the altar and laid my burden down 
at the foot of the cross and to-morrow I will go down 
and out and look upon it no more. Our family portraits 
are all that I have saved from the wreck; these are all 
I can take of the many beautiful things that are here. 

“You must tell me what I am to do. I can not go to the 
Ranch Earnestine, for I would not be happy there. How 
to find a place in all this great city of houses where I can 
plan another home and feel the same sense of freedom 
and security that I have felt here in my own palace I know 
not.” 


242 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


Ruth looked tenderly upon the woman, for memory 
came rushing back to remind her of another time, so 
many years ago, on another occasion, when she herself 
and her beloved mother had sat in council and had made 
a list of the things that had grown dear to them, even as 
Marie now was doing, and then each had asked of the 
other, “What of the morrow?” 

She wound her arms affectionately around the delicate 
creature, whose head was resting upon her knee, and 
said: “Trust it all to me, dear heart. God’s holy spirit 
will lead me and I will find you a place somewhere where 
you can be happy.” 

Bidding her an affectionate good-night, she departed, 
saying as she waited at the door: “I will come for you 
to-morrow at eleven, Marie. Have everything in readi- 
ness at that time to go with me.” 

Ruth had been anticipating this very event, and all day 
long had been busily engaged in searching for a furnished 
cottage such as would be within the means of Marie and 
at the same time make for herself and family a pleasant 
home. She wended her way back to her own comfortable 
lodgings and repeated the words which she had spoken 
in the by-gone days: “Nota bene! I shall some day be 
called upon to lend a hand to this proud piece of hu- 
manity.” 

Even sooner than she thought her prophecy had come 
true. She meditated upon God’s hasty fulfillment of all 
things in these last days, and wondered as she thought 
on what part she was to take in the general round up be- 
tween Capital and Labor. 

Of late she had been noting the clans and watching the 
various coalescent bodies as political lines were tighten- 
ing and binding thent more closely together. Apparent- 
ly they were strengthening their lines and getting ready 


FROM MANSION TO COTTAGE. 


243 


for a final action. One thing she greatly feared for the 
Pacific Coast was the cosmopolitan population and the 
customs brought in from other lands. Soon she felt there 
would be a struggle between the two great powers. 
Labor and Capital would try their strength together. 
What the result would be she could not tell. 

If the matter would be left entirely to the Americans 
she felt sure an amicable adjustment of things could 
easily be accomplished, but the grumbling of that dark 
spirit of anarchy that one could hear as they put their ear 
to the ground, which had flowed in from other countries, 
held a threatening hand over society, and she feared the 
result of an uprising if it should come. But whatever 
was to be, Ruth believed that God was with His people 
and she stood ready at an hour’s notice to summon to- 
gether an army of women, such as had never appeared in 
public demonstration in any city of the world. Her five 
years of quiet working had not been in vain. To-day as 
she was making a resume of all her public efforts, she 
smiled when she thought how great her achievements 
had been. 

With the diligence of an enthusiast she had been 
banding the wage-earning women together and getting 
ready for the struggle that she saw must inevitably come 
before a proper adjustment of the affairs of the two con- 
tending parties could be made. Women from all stations 
in society were interested; every trade in the various 
lines of woman’s activity was identified with the move- 
ment, from the professional woman down to the house- 
maid and the woman who worked upon the street. All 
were interested in the cause of Labor, and in general con- 
gress they had often taken counsel together. Women 
who loved their homes and were loyal to their country and 
unto their God; women who were just as enthusiastic 


244 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


as she, and just as rabid in their denunciation of aristo- 
cratic rule; women who were just as anxious to bring 
about the delaceration of the power of the monopolists 
who are grinding the face of the poor as she could possi- 
bly be. But what their future line of action, she could 
not yet see as clearly as she wished. With firm faith in 
God, who had ever been the firm friend of the people, she 
moved forward, believing that His omnipotent hand 
would still lead the righteous hosts. She went on from 
day to day doing her utmost to breathe her burning spirit 
of enthusiasm into the heart of the womanly hosts which 
she was called to lead. 

Rising with the sun on the morning following her con- 
ference with the mistress of Palace Earnestine, she went 
her way in search of a little snuggery in which her friend, 
so tempest tossed and tried in the furnace of affliction, 
could hide from the world and be at peace. 

Having been successful in her search, at exactly the 
appointed time, she stood on the threshold of the Palace 
Earnestine. She embraced Marie, who stood in bonnet 
and gloves ready to take her departure.* As her trunks 
and boxes were being loaded upon the wagon, the new 
mistress of the mansion was coming in with her personal 
effects. The proud and haughty stare with which she 
regarded Marie was the exact counterpart of Marie’s own 
haughty pride a few years before. For the first time in 
her life Marie Stocklaid felt her spirit cringe under the 
domination of the power of an aristocrat. Taking her 
seat in the carriage, she brushed away an unbidden tear, 
and as she saw that Ruth had divined its source, she said : 
“The hateful creature! she at least might have waited 
until I was out of the house.” 

Ruth gave the order and the carriage rolled down from 
Nob Hill, freighted with its full complement of mourn- 


FROM MANSION TO COTTAGE. 


245 


ers. It wended its way out toward the Mission, where 
she had taken a sunny little cottage, already fitted for 
happiness and home. As they drew up before the place 
Marie gave a sigh of relief, for she noted its genteel ap- 
pearance, which looked inviting to her tired soul. En- 
tering, she found a cozy fire burning in the grate and an 
easy rocker which invited her to repose. Turning to 
Ruth, she gave her a tender embrace, saying as she did 
so: “You precious friend in need! What a^ wonderful 
woman you are! Who would have thought that all this 
brightness could have been in waiting for me?” 

Wiping the tears which flowed in gratitude she, mid 
smiles and tears, continued: “Oh, I shall be a happy 
weanling by and by and then it will not seem so hard to 
be poor.” 

“None are so rich,” replied Ruth, “as those who abound 
in Christ. He who is cognizant of even a feather that 
falls from the raven’s wing will care for thee.” 

Bringing her chair, she seated herself in the same com- 
fortable, homelike way that she had hitherto done, and 
continued: “There is much real happiness in poverty, 
Marie dear, and if you will pause to think now that 'the 
Son of Man had not where to lay His head’ your lot will 
not seem so hard after all.” 




INTERIOR OP RUTH’S HOME. 


I 





i 




CHAPTER XXV. 


DUPLICATING THE LABOR DEPARTMENT. 

If Marie Stocklaid could have foreseen the natural 
gravitation of things that day when she stood before the 
woman’s cell down in the city prison saying to Polly Hop- 
kins: “When you get out from here come to me and I 
will talk to you,” she would have been more chary of 
her words and weighed more carefully the meaning of 
a visit from that black siren of a hundred midnight revels. 
She had been only three days ensconced in her cottage 
home when she was one morning surprised to see the 
besotted visage of the poor fallen and abandoned Polly 
peering in at her as she sat reclining in an easy chair, 
partially hidden behind the lace curtains of her bay win- 
dow. With a broad grin upon her face, revealing two 
rows of pearly teeth, the woman opened the gate and 
came up the walk with the air of assurance which be- 
tokened self-possession at least. 

Without ringing, she opened the door and ushered her- 
self right into the presence of Mrs. Stocklaid, saying as 
she did so: “Pardon my abruptness, Mrs. Stocklaid. I 
didn’t want to trouble you to let me in.” Then helping 
herself to a seat, she continued: “I have found you at 
last, my noble misses. I am so glad to come and have 
that talk with you. Wasn’t you good though to ask 
me, a poor old drunkard, to come to your home? And 
you did it, too, just as though I had been a decent 
woman.” 

For a moment Marie was in terror, for as she looked 


248 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


into the wild eyes of the poor creature, whose hair stood 
out about her head in a woolly manner, peculiar to the 
unkempt locks of the African race, she almost feared that 
she was insane. 

She had never before been brought into such close con- 
tact with a woman under the influence of drink. But since 
Polly had come at her own . instigation, she decided by 
the grace which Christ gave her, to make the meeting 
one which would tell for good in the counsel she would 
give. Arising, she came and took a seat in front of the 
poor wreck of former years and said : “Polly, I am very 
glad to see you, but you will remember that I said you 
must not come until you were free from drink.” 

“Bless ye. Miss Marie,” replied the woman, “I haven’t 
took a drop since yesterday. Have been savin’ up to 
come and see you and I wanted to come sober. How 
good it would seem, honey, if I could only be as pure once 
more as I was when you were a little girl !” Wiping away 
the tears that ran down her dusky cheek, she continued: 
“But it was yer father. Miss Marie, Judge Earnestine, that 
gave me the first drink of wine I ever took. It was his 
fiftieth birthday, honey, when he called us servants 
all in to drink to his health. And when I refused because 
I was a teetotaler, he laughed and told me that if I did 
not drink and wish him to be a hundred he would dis- 
charge me. And so. Miss Marie, thinking to please him, 
I drank to the old judge’s health. Poor fellow! He was 
well set up that day. Ah, well, where’s the use to talk 
about it? He’s dead now and poor old Poll is an aban- 
doned drunkard with no one to care for her. Why, even 
my black Bess — ^that girl I would have died for — even she 
has turned me out o’ doors because I’m reckless and 
nobody. But it was good in ye, Miss Marie, to let me 
come and talk to ye, and I think if ye was my misses once 


DUPLICATING THE LABOR DEPARTMENT. 249 

more I would not want to drink.” Grasping the hand of 
Mrs. Stocklaid, the woman pressed it to her polluted 
lips, while tears ran down her cheek like rain and she 
plead: “Oh, Miss Marie, won’t ye be my misses once 
more? Oh, do let me come where ye can keep me from 
sin?” And then like one in delirium, her mind wan- 
dered and she laughed a coarse laugh and exclaimed : 
“Wouldn’t I like those old days once more that I used 
to enjoy at the Palace Earnestine before I feU a victim to 
rum!” 

She then broke into one of her old plantation songs of 
the happy days gone by, and sang it in real African style, 
which to Marie was amusing and helped to break the 
spell that Polly had thrown around her. 

Poor Mrs. Stocklaid 1 Had she been accustomed to the 
desultory manner of drunken women that day as she 
afterward became, she would have feared this one less 
and not been so strangely moved as she was. But be- 
cause of old associations her heart overflowed with pity 
for this poor slave to alcohol. Had she had even a little 
niche in her snuggery, it must surely have been given 
to poor black Polly with the hope that she might be re- 
claimed. As it was, she was only able to lend her sym- 
pathy and tell of Jesus’ love and power to save even such 
as she. Her love she lavished freely upon the disconso- 
late creature. 

Just then Ruth came in to inquire how the occupants 
of the cottage enjoyed their new domicile and stopped 
short as she saw the familiar face of Polly Hopkins, for 
whom she had done a hundred good turns. As the black 
woman arose to go, Marie took her hand and tenderly 
said: “When you are in trouble and want sympathy, 
Polly, come to me and I can, at least, weep with you and 
tell you of a Savior’s love. Any time when you want 


250 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


to leave the old life and begin a new one, remember, 
Polly, I arh ready to help you.” 

The dusky figure vanished from the door, and Marie 
came back to find Ruth still standing. Her cheeks were 
radiant with life and animation as she said : “Come, dear, 
let us be off, for the meeting began an hour ago.” 

The state executive meeting of the Woman’s Christian 
Temperance Union had convened at headquarters for the 
purpose of discussing methods — legal, educational, and 
otherwise — to help on the good work. That body was 
first going to take up prison work, and as they entered 
the superintendent was pleading for an assistant; some 
one who would be willing to give time and energy to 
the department. When the superintendent was seated 
a little woman with glowing face and an elegant contour 
stood up and said: “Madam President, I suggest the 
name of our new member, Mrs. Marie Stocklaid, whom 
I understand is intensely interested in reformatory work.” 

Ruth and Marie entered just in time to catch the lady’s 
remarks. Ruth arose and said: “Yes, ladies, I heartily 
coincide with our sister’s remarks. Mrs. Stocklaid is al- 
ready in the work and a member in high standing of her 
own church, and would indeed be a credit to our society 
in whatever place you may put her. If you had seen her 
just now crying over that poor old wretch, Polly Hop- 
kins, you would believe, as I do, that she has an adapta- 
bility in this line of work.” 

Mrs. Stocklaid accepted the appointment and prom- 
ised to work diligently to rescue the fallen of the city. 
“Next,” said the president, “is the labor question. I be- 
lieve the time has come when we can no longer ignore 
this reform. It has become a national issue. Frances 
Willard has given her hearty indorsement to the ques- 
tion, and many of the best women of the country are 


DUPLICATING THE LABOR DEPARTMENT. 


251 


most radical agitators of the movement. Now, ladies, 
what will you do? Will you open a discussion and get 
the opinion of the board upon this important depart- 
ment?” 

Ruth’s eyes sparkled with delight She was about to 
make a speech when a little woman with a brilliant ad- 
dress, one who had never quite forgiven her for daring 
to be a self-made woman, arose and addressed the chair: 
“Madam President, the labor question is foreign to our 
work and I, for one, am opposed to the department. 
These labor people have given us much trouble already. 
Their arguments are wrong, and I am in favor of letting 
them alone. It does not seem that it is necessary for us 
to duplicate this department just because the National 
Union have unwisely taken it up just for their especial 
benefit. Why, only to-day, some of the machine shops 
are closed because these men have gone on a strike, de- 
manding from their employers the most preposterous 
measures. I for one hope that this intelligent and august 
body of women will not consider the department.” 

Ruth then arose to her feet and awaited recognition 
from the chair. “Miss Mansfield,” said the president, 
“has something to say.” 

Ruth began: ‘'‘Madam President, the sister has been 
talking out of order, as there is no question before the 
hc5use. I will therefore move that we duplicate this de- 
partment of labor and appoint a superintendent.” There 
being a hearty second. Miss Mansfield proceeded to talk. 
She said : “I am glad that this question is open for dis- 
cussion, for according to my way of thinking there is 
no department in all our national work, of more vital im- 
portance to our people, either religiously, socially, or po- 
litically, than the Labor reform. There is a great contro- 
versy going on between Capital and Labor — a deficiency 


252 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


that must be settled — and a question that can never be 
settled until it is settled right. My only surprise has been 
that this wise body of counselors have been silent so long 
upon this issue. Our sister has said that the workingmen 
are giving us trouble. This is, indeed, true, and they will 
continue to give us trouble until our country’s wrongs 
are righted and Labor is in full possession of its birth- 
right, which is nothing more than man’s justice to man. 
If we wish to hasten on a terrible disaster to our country 
then all we have to do is to fold our hands and let these 
workingmen alone, for over us now is hovering a cloud 
that is darker and more ominous than the liquor traffic 
or any other vice with which we are contending. Ameri- 
ca to-day is sleeping on the verge of a fearful awakening! 
The question is, will this society come in as a mediator 
between Capital and Labor and help to bring about a 
peaceful arbitration, or will it wash its hands of mercy 
and hasten on the calamity?” 

As Ruth sat down a lady whose face portrayed a brave, 
dauntless spirit arose and with a strong German accent 
said: “Madam President, I heartily goincide mit all 
dat Mees Mansfield has sait, and mos sincerely hope dat 
des vimmins vill duplicate dat department of relations os 
demperance to Labor; and I vill now move dat ve ap- 
point as superintendent for de state Mees Mahitable Ann 
Grimshaw.” 

The president smiled as the lady sat down. There was 
no further discussion, and Ruth’s face glowed with eager 
expectation as the vote was taken and the lady stood be- 
fore them elected. 

The tall, angular form of Mahitable Ann arose to her 
feet, and coming forward she took the extended hand of 
the president and said: “With the help of God, dear 
madam, I will do the best I can for the society, and I 


DUPLICATING THE LABOR DEPARTMENT. 


253 


will strive as a mediator to make peace between Capital 
and Labor. But I wish to ask one question: Is that 
grand army of women which Ruth Mansfield has already 
enrolled in the interests of Labor incumbent upon this 
society in their relation to the reform?” 

“Not necessarily,” explained the wise woman in the 
chair. “However, it is to be hoped that a speedy coales- 
cence of the two bodies will hasten our deliverance from 
the monopoly of rum and the monopoly of gold, which 
are about one and the same thing.” 

Marie went to her home that day and pondered over 
her calling. What could she do to lift up the fallen and 
hasten their deliverance from the power of Satan? The 
question was a momentous one and worthy of a better 
and holier service than she felt herself able to give. She 
reverently called upon the name of the Lord to give her 
wisdom for the lowly work to which she had been ap- 
pointed. Feeling her need of spiritual advice she sought 
her father confessor for counsel and laid the whole mat- 
ter at his feet. Would she get help and comfort at the 
hands of that good man? Ah, yes! {paying his hand 
upon her head, he blessed her in the name of the Lord 
and made special mention of the white ribbon which she 
wore upon her dress — the emblem of purity adopted by the 
temperance women of the world. Marie told him of her 
new birth in Christ, and the holy joy that had come into 
her heart that day when she knelt with Ruth in prayer 
and made a full surrender of self unto the Lord, and of 
the fullness of love that filled her heart, even the new spirit 
which He had given her. 

The good man earnestly besought her to enter the 
convent and there let the spirit of her beautiful life be 
shed upon those who might come to her for instructions. 

But the woman replied: “Oh, no, Father Hachilah, I 


254 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


can not do that; but I will let the influence of a holy life 
in Christ fall upon my sisters in the church, and in my 
work for humanity 1 will so live that God may be hon- 
ored in all that I shall do.” 

Thus, with a full preparation for her work, Marie kept 
herself at the feet of the blessed Master who had so won- 
drously called and endowed her for the work. But how 
or where she was to begin, she had not the slightest idea 
in the world; though God, in whom she trusted, would 
lead the way. 



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WHERE THE POOR ARE NOT ADMITTED. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


POOR LITTLE JUNE BUD. 

On the following day, as Marie was wending her way 
down Market street, she was startled to see a crowd of 
men gather quickly around some object upon the pave- 
ment. What could it be? Her curiosity got the best 
of her. Little dreaming that the Lord had brought her 
face to face with the work of her department, she asked: 
“What is it, gentlemen?” 

The reply was a heartless one, it seemed to her: “Oh, 
nothing; only a woman fainted.” 

“Please stand aside!” was her injunction to the crowd; 
and Mrs. Stocklaid bent over the prostrate figure of a 
woman with pinched, drawn features, which told of want 
and woe. This woman, who lay stretched upon the stone 
pavement, needed help. Marie loosened her dress, chafed 
her hands, and ere long the poor creature opened her eyes 
again. The men then lifted and laid her upon the stone 
steps. of the Baldwin Theater. “Go for a doctor,” said 
Marie. “Why don’t some one go for a doctor?” 

Poor, ignorant woman! She did not know, she had 
not dreamed that a doctor was never called for a case 
like this. Had she been bending above a woman of 
wealth medical aid would have been at her elbow, but 
this was a woman of the town, who earned her living her- 
self. A man at her side took out a flask and said: “Here, 
madam, give her this ; it will do her good.” 

Marie took it in her hand and smelled the contents.. . 
Handing it back to the man, she said; “It is whisky, 


258 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


sir; put it away. It is that vile stuff that brings so many 
of my own sex to lives like this.” 

The suffering woman had revived sufficiently to be 
stung by the curt remarks as they fell from Marie’s lips. 
Bursting into tears, she said: “Oh, no, madam! It is 
not drink that has brought me to where I am, but it was 
hunger and want that forced me out upon the street. I 
am too ill to work, but am hungry, and for three days I 
have walked the streets asking for something to do to 
earn a morsel of bread. But no one wants such a one 
as I ; and I am starving for food, but I am not a 
drunkard.” 

The pitiful tale touched some man’s heart and he 
dropped a twenty-five-cent piece in Marie’s hand and 
said: “Get her something to eat.” How big the man’s 
heart was! But then Mrs. Stocklaid excused him, for 
he, too, might have been hungry. Assisting the woman 
to arise, she gave her her arm and led the way across 
the street to a palace restaurant and gave her a seat at a 
table in the rear of the room. It was the six o’clock din- 
ner hour and a hundred people sat at their meal. Pres- 
ently the proprietor came and said: “Madam, that 
woman can’t eat in here; we don’t feed vagrants.” 

“But, sir, she has money to pay for her food, and this 
place is open to the public. It is your duty, sir, to feed 
all who come.” 

The man went away, but immediately returned, and 
this time his language was most imperious as he repeated : 
“Madam, that woman can not be given food to eat in this 
place. You must take her away. Don’t you see she is 
drunk?” 

The poor creature’s chi i quivered and she pressed her 
hand against her heart as with a haunted look of pain 


POOR LITTLE JUNE BUD. 


259 


she said: “I will go, dear lady, for I can not more than 
starve upon the street, and it would be a mercy if God 
would let me die.” 

Marie arose and gave her arm to the trembling figure 
by her side, and was about to leave the place when she 
heard a sneer and a coarse jest at her expense. She 
paused to see from whom it came. It was Harry Rums- 
ford. She waited and looked up and down at the line of 
tables and their occupants. Why, this was a bon-ton res- 
taurant. Very elegant people were these men and 
women — at least, so they seemed from their outer ap- 
pearance. To Marie there was something wrong in the 
heart when these people could sit and see a starving 
woman driven from the place without food; and why? 
Because she was poor and they supposed her to be un- 
der the influence of drink, when at the plate of each in- 
dividual was a bottle of wine or champagne, and many 
of them were under the influence of it already. She ques- 
tioned: What was the difference between this woman 
upon her arm, even if she was intoxicated, and these 
heartless people before her? The words of Ruth came 
back to her at that moment with redoubled force — “the 
rich and the starving poor.” 

Marie bit her lip as she moved on toward the door. 
At length she paused and in the presence of those people 
she gave utterance to the feelings of her heart. Her voice 
was as clear as a bell, but what she said she afterward 
could not tell, though in her words was a most biting re- 
proof and a reminder of the coming judgment. In after 
years she often talked of her first public address delivered 
to a people who could see a hungry woman driven from 
the table because she was poor and friendless. 

The frail creature still hung upon her arm, and as they 
crossed the threshold, she comforted her by saying: 


260 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


“Never mind, I will take you to my home and feed you 
there.” . . ^ 

Before they could walk to the car that stopped at Marie’s 
door, the woman again grew faint and said: “I can not 
walk another step ; I fear I will fall again upon the street.” 

Leaving her seated upon a box on the sidewalk, Marie 
ran to bring her food. Upon returning she found her 
gone, and a child said that a policeman had taken her 
away. 

Marie Stocklaid was getting an insight into the suf- 
ferings of poverty. She was coming close enough now 
to make her believe some of the things that Ruth had said. 
She bravely started on in pursuit of the unfortunate 
woman and was in time to -see her put down from an 
express wagon as though she had been a brute instead 
of a human being. She was hurried down into the damp, 
dark prison to be shut in behind the bars with a company 
of drunken, besotted women. 

Marie followed sorrowfully into the loathsome place 
and looked into the great book that lay upon the desk 
of the recording officer. There was the name of “Rose 
Sommers” and over against it the one word, “drunk.” 
Marie expostulated and pleaded with the officer that she 
be released, but the man smiled cynically and said: “We 
know that character better than you do, madam, and the 
law must do its work.” 

“Great God !” thought she, “is there mercy to be found 
in the hearts of men?” She thought not, and as she 
turned away a.nd sought her own home, she realized that 
she had found the key to the department of work to which 
she had been appointed. 

Ruth came in to spend the evening, and the two sat 
down to talk over the incidents of the day. Marie re- 
peated in mournful tones the story of poor Rose Som- 


POOR LITTLE JUNE BUD. 


261 


mers. Ruth’s eyes ran down with tears and she said: 
“Poor Rose! What a fate hers has been!” 

“Oh, do you know her?” asked Marie. “Do tell me 
whatever has brought her to such a life of woe.” 

“The sequel to your story,” said Ruth. “Poor little 
Rose Westfield was born of gentle parentage and came 
in the month of June, and her mother therefore used to 
say, ‘My little Rose June Bud.’ ” 

Marie grasped Ruth’s hand. “You don’t mean June 
Bud, my little play fellow?” 

“Yes,” replied Ruth. “You sent me one night to watch 
beside the sick bed of her mother, Mrs. Westfield. Well, 
that night her mother told me all about the birth of her 
daughter Rose and how welcome she was to their hearts 
and home. She was so sweet and lovely with her flaxen 
curls and heavenly blue eyes and she seemed more like 
a fairy than an earthly mortal. But one day when she 
was only seven years old an epidemic entered her home. 
Her lovely mother and excellent father w'ere taken by that 
fell destroyer. Death, and little June Bud was left to the 
mercy of the world. It was in that last sickness that you 
sent me to do what I could. Their property was left in- 
solvent and therefore little Rose was an orphan without 
any natural means of support. The little thing was taken 
to the Children’s Home. From there she was adopted, in 
due time, into the family of some excellent people, where 
she lived as a daughter until she was sixteen years of age. 
The good woman had one fault, however, which proved 
to be the means of giving Rose this wretched life. She 
taught her to think that labor was degrading, and as she 
had no financial prospects in life she should marry early. 
Foolish woman that she was! If she could only have seen 
her error Rose might have been a useful member of so- 
ciety to-day. But at the age I have mentioned she be- 


262 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


canie acquainted with Mr. Sommers, a man of pleasing 
address and who had a good reputation as salesman in 
one of the first business houses, of the city. To him she 
gave her hand in marriage and received the blessing of 
her foster parents, who felt that they now had done for the 
girl the best and all they could. True, Rose knew that he 
was a wine drinker, but when I tried to persuade her that 
it was a dangerous thing to marry even a moderate drink- 
er, she replied with somewhat of assurance: “I feel that 
I can trust Mr. Sommers.” And although she confessed 
to me that she did not love the young man more than 
any other of her acquaintances, “Yet,” said she, “my foster 
mother urges me to accept him, as I may not soon again 
have another offer of marriage. He says it would be 
a dreadful thing for me to have to work for my own 
maintenance, and hints at the great expense that my sup- 
port is to her. And beside,” said June Bud, “you know, 
Ruth, that nearly all young men use wine to a' greater or 
less extent.” 

“Well, to make a long story short, I will say that the 
child-wife very soon discovered that her moderate drink- 
er was a strong drinker. She was a girl possessed of 
dauntless courage, and did not grow disheartened, but 
sat about to work a reformation in her husband. She 
attended Sabbath school and held a membership in one 
of the prominent churches of San Francisco, but after 
months of fruitless endeavor she found that her efforts 
were vain and that her husband was fast becoming 
hopelessly abandoned to drink. Coming home one night 
in a beastly state of intoxication, he flew into a rage at 
some trivial offense, and laying violent hands upon her, 
threw her down a flight of stairs. She was taken up for 
dead, but became conscious and was taken to the city and 
county hospital, where soon she became the mother of g 


POOR LITTLE JUNE BUD. 


263 


child that lived only a day. The husband refused to 
take her home again, and she sought in her feeble state 
of health to find some light and lucrative employment 
by which she could earn her bread. In this endeavor she 
was often overwhelmed with discouragements and many 
grievous trials rose up to meet her on the way. With 
stout heart she fought against want, beating it back with 
despair as it tried to creep in at her door. One day 
hunger drove her out upon the street, and she stood at 
the door of a palace home, which chanced to be the very 
house where she was born, asking for bread. 

“The heartless mistress of the mansion called an of- 
ficer and Rose was taken to the station charged with va- 
grancy. Poor child! Thrown into the association of 
drunkards and harlots, she soon became abandoned to 
that society and has ever since, when not languishing in 
prison, wandered upon the street. Sometimes she is for- 
tunate enough to find a little job of work, but oftener she 
is left to beg her bread. It was thus you found her to- 
day, Marie. Not guilty of any misdemeanor, but bear- 
ing the sins of society. God pity poor little June Bud!” 

Marie’s face was buried in Ruth’s lap, and as she fin- 
ished the recital of the sad life she wept and echoed the 
words: “Poor little June Bud!” 

Ah, dear mothers, you who sit so securely in your pal- 
ace homes, hugging to your bosom your own little darling 
daughters, think for a moment of the story of poor Rose 
Sommers, and how often her case is repeated in society, 
and meditate upon these words: Who knows but it will 
be your own child next that must fall to fill up the gap 
that June Bud will make when she bids farewell to life 
on earth. 







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V— '“A, Mild ^r^aarC^WU^ 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


FINDING HER MISSION. 

For some time Marie sat with bowed head struggling 
with emotion. The sad story of Rose Sommers had gone 
down like a probe of steel into her soul. At last she took 
her friend’s hand tenderly in her own and said: “Dear 
Ruth, I am glad that you have given me the sequel to my 
story of to-day’s experience, for it will strengthen me in 
my purpose to do good as I go down into that dark, foul 
atmosphere to minister to those lost ‘spirits in person.’” 

Pausing a moment, she continued: “Ruth, do you 
think I could preach the gospel to those lost and helpless 
creatures?” 

“Yes, Marie, why could you not? If you had the cour- 
age to speak to the occupants of that restaurant to-day, 
surely you could talk to those who are yearning for your 
words of sympathy and a mother’s love.” 

“Ah,” replied Marie, “but it was not my courage that 
helped me speak to-day; but the spirit that God gave 
me. He gave me the words and He was my courage.” 
Then looking earnestly into Ruth’s face, she asked: 
“Whom do you think, dear, I could get to accompany 
me on such a mission of love?” 

“You need but one, Marie, and that one you already 
have, even Christ. The least demonstration you can 
make will be the more acceptable to the officers in charge, 
and farther reaching with the prisoners.” 

With an affectionate good-night, the two ladies parted 
and Marie retired to rest, but not to sleep, for there upoii 
her bed she was perfecting a plan of work that would in- 


266 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


deed be the means of rescuing souls. Long and earnest- 
ly that night she prayed, entreating God to endow her 
with wisdbm for the work that had come so unexpectedly 
to her. She planned her work in the small hours of night, 
then closed her eyes in sleep. She arose m the morning 
with a calm and fixed purpose in her mind. When the 
morning devotions were over, and little Earnie had de- 
parted for the kindergarten, she put upon her a plain 
bonnet and wrap and taking her Bible, Ruth’s present 
to her^ she bade Jeanetta, who was now her only house- 
maid, good-morning, and wended her way to the city 
prison. Taking her position in a place where she could 
be heard, she tuned her voice and sang in most tender 
strains: 

“Rock of Ages, cleft for me, 

Let me hide myself in thee; 

Let the water and the blood 
Prom thy riven side which flowed, 

Be for sin a double cure. 

Save me from its guilt and power.” 

As the strains of her musical voice were dying away, 
she caught the inspiration of the spirit that was working 
mightily with those behind the bars, and opening her 
Bible read a few well-chosen verses. Then with the ten- 
derness of woman and the gentle spirit of the Lord, she 
lifted up her voice and told them of Jesus and His power to 
save, even to the uttermost. She then gave them her 
home address, and bade them, one and all, when they 
should again be free, to come to her for counsel as they 
would go to a mother. 

Going to the cell, she learned that poor little June Bud 
had been sentenced to six months in the House of Cor- 
rection. Turning away, bitter thoughts came into her 
heart as she meditated upon man’s inhumanity to man; 


FINDING HER MISSION. 


267 


yes, and cruelty to woman. As she stood waiting for 
the turnkey to let her out, an officer whom she saw while 
talking pass a bottle of whisky into the women’s cell, came 
to her and in a most incredulous manner, which betok- 
ened lack of sympathy with her work, said: “Madam, 
what do-you hope to gain by this morning’s work?” 

Marie’s face looked a little puzzled, for she had not 
much thought of the result. She had felt the drawing of 
the spirit and had listened to its leading, but now that 
the question had been so fairly put, she gave it a thought 
and right then and there asked herself: “What had she 
hoped to gain?” The Spirit whispered: “I have planted, 
Appolis watered, but God gave the increase.” And she 
smiled pleasantly at him and answered: “I think, sir, I 
have nothing to do with the results of my labors. The 
Lord, who put it into my heart to come, will take care 
of the results. But when I get into Heaven, as I hope 
to some day, I shall expect to see some of these poof 
wretched souls up there in white raiment.” 

“Oh, bah!” said the man. “Why madam, those women 
behind the bars haven’t got any souls 1 They have grown 
to be animals! dogs! brutes! Surely there is no good in 
them !” 

For a moment the utmost astonishment was depicted 
upon Marie’s face, for the man’s words sounded to her as 
though he himself was void of manhood. Then she 
looked at him and said: “I fear you are quite as much 
in darkness pertaining to your soul’s need as they. None 
ever yet fell so low that there was not a little good within 
them.” 

While her words were yet tingling in the ears of the 
officer, she bowed herself out of the prison and went her 
way to the House of Correction in quest of Rose Som- 
mers, for she said to herself: “I may not be able to do 


268 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


her any good, but I can at least tell her that I am her 
old playfellow and that I love her still.” Arriving at that 
institution, she was shown into the woman’s apartment, 
and found there in a close, narrow cell the poor dove, 
smirched and stained by the sins of all with whom she 
had come in contact. She scarcely bore any resemblance 
to the idolized child who had only a few years before been 
the apple of a mother’s eye. Here, too, she found a piece 
of work. The good matron came in and unlocked the 
door of the cells, allowing the women to come out and 
sit down while their visitor read to them from the word 
of God. 

Oh, how hopeful was this new-found work to Marie. 
While here she forgot her own sorrow and was lost in 
the thought of rescuing others. 

Hearing a sound in one of the cells, she asked the 
matron: ‘Ts there any inmate who has not come out to 
sit with us?” 

“Yes,” replied the lady, “we have one woman who is 
such a terror to us that we never let her out.” 

“May I not see her?” asked Marie. And the two moved 
toward a cell occupied by a woman whose hair was white 
as snow. 

Mrs. Stocklaid reached her hand in through the bars 
and attempted to take that of the aged prisoner, who, at 
the familiarity of her visitor, drew herself up full height 
and said: 

“Why, madam, what impudence on your part ! I would 
have you know that I am no ordinary woman 1” and with 
a genuine courtesy of “ye olden tymes,” introduced her- 
self, saying: “I am Mrs. Phil Cadukes, of aristocratic 
fame, and I do not wish common trash to call upon me, 
either.” 

A smile flitted over the countenance of Marie, then tears 


FINDING HER MISSION. 


269 


Sprang to her eyes as she turned from the cell and con- 
templated what it meant to be a lost soul with the sins 
of eighty years weighing one down. As she was about 
to leave she stepped into the office of the superintendent 
and gained permission to pay weekly visits to the insti- 
tution that she might bring the gospel to the prisoners, 
both male and female, and point them to a better life. 
On her way homeward that day she drew a comparison 
between her life at this present time and that of a few 
years before. What a wonderful change had been 
wrought in her life! She laughed when she looked back 
to that old time and thought of herself, the petted, idol- 
ized doll of society, with no thought for human woes and 
no love for other than herself. 

How grateful she felt toward Ruth, who had annoyed 
her with questions of reform and who had been the means 
of bringing her into such a place as the Woman’s Chris- 
tian Temperance Union, where she could bestow her love 
and talent upon a people who were hungering and thirst- 
ing after a better life. 

Once she would have scorned one like herself, but to- 
day she loves as the One who “came to seek and to save 
that which was lost.” Who could say that she had not 
been born again? There was no uncertainty about the 
conversion of Marie Stocklaid, and the sweet spirit that 
had come to abide within her soul gave evidence of her 
new and higher life. 


i 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 


A WOMAN’S METHOD-S. 

One might suppose as they have followed the trend of 
our story that Ruth Mansfield had climbed all the way 
up to thirty years without ever having had a serious 
thought of love or a tender impulse for any one of the 
sterner sex; but such was not the case, for if there was 
one thing that Ruth regarded with more sacredness than 
another, it was that Heaven-ordained institution, the home. 
She meant some day to have one and with it a husband 
of ideal manhood, one whom she could honor and one 
who would in turn feel equally honored to call her his 
wife. Of late this matter had been a subject of thought 
with her and was demanding her closest attention. She 
had begun to cast about to find, if she could, the counter- 
part of her existence. She had been looking around that 
she might judge of others’ happiness something of the 
felicity of married life. As yet her research had not dis- 
covered a single case where she thought the conjugal 
relationship existing between two people exceeded her 
own state of single blessedness. To be sure, there was a 
measure of happiness which doubtless came from the 
harmony of two amiable spirits. But her ideal of mar- 
riage was where two souls could meet as one — two lives 
that could so harmoniously blend into each other that 
the very atmosphere could but tend to draw one Heaven- 
ward. In such an influence she felt that it would be an 
easy matter to build up the kingdom of home. Such a 
one she had not yet found, but on the contrary, her in- 
vestigation had revealed to her the fact that almost every 


272 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


home was in a state of fermentation and that oftener than 
otherwise husbands and wives lived in open broil with 
each other. She pondered this matter that was of so much 
importance to herself and began to search in earnest for 
the true reason of so much infelicity. As she thought it 
over her mind naturally began to reach out and search 
for the motive power that made people so inconsistent in 
their selection of an affinity. Here she stopped short, 
for she found that only one-half of the people had been 
making any choice at all, and that half was the male por- 
tion of society who made their selection of a wife from the 
head rather than from the heart. What an incongruous 
state of existence! Was it indeed true that woman was 
so inconsistently indifferent to her happiness through life 
that she had no choice in her mate? And then she began 
to count the scores of her girl friends who had started 
out in life together with herself. All were married, or 
had been. Was any of them mated? And if they were 
mated, what was .the reason that they were so restless 
and beat their fettered spirits so against the chains that 
bound them in wedlock? She held in her hand the statis- 
tics showing eighteen hundred and forty divorces were 
granted in California during the previous year. What 
an awful showing for society! These statistics showed 
that eighteen hundred and forty homes were broken up 
probably every year in the Golden State! Ruth arose 
from her chair and paced up and down the room. This 
room was prettily arranged and all done by Ruth’s own 
hand. Tenderly caressing the various objects as she 
passed, she said to them as if addressing living creatures: 
“Ruth Mansfield will never marry until she can make 
her own choice of a husband.” 

It was a beautiful morning and her door stood open to 
let in the bright sunlight of Heaven. As the words fell 


A WOMAN’S METHODS. 


273 


from her lips she looked up and beheld standing in the 
doorway her ideal of manly strength and beauty, Mr. 
Jack Halstead. Politely lifting his hat and graciously 
smiling at the comic expression of her countenance when 
she discovered that her auditors were not all dumb bits 
of fancy work, he said: “I believe you, Miss Mansfield, 
and I, for one, would like to be the man that would sue 
for your hand and be rejected.” As he spoke he walked 
in and helped himself to a chair, showing that he was not 
an entire stranger in this little home. 

“Then you had not better ask it, Mr. Halstead,” was 
her curt reply, “and thereby save your feelings from a 
shock.” Thrusting the paper into his hand, she said: 

^ “Look here, eighteen hundred and forty divorces granted 
in this state last year, and I am persuaded that the whole 
cause of it is the unequal existence of men and women. 

“Why do not my own sex assert their rights? The 
bare idea of a woman sitting down and waiting for some 
man to come and ask her hand in marriage before she 
has any thought of herself or who that man shall be is 
simply preposterous ! A poet says that ‘a woman marries 
for love.’ Poor deluded rhymer! That is not true. 
Woman marries the first man that asks her hand whether 
she loves him or not. And why? Simply because she 
fears it may be her last chance. Society has declared 
that it is unwomanly for one of the gentler sex to ask a 
man’s hand in marriage. Away with society and such 
foolish customs which wreck happiness and make mis- 
erable homes in the world! I repeat it, Mr. Halstead, 
Ruth Mansfield will never marry until she can make her 
own choice of a husband and propose for her own mate !” 

“Then, Ruth, be sure I shall never ask your hand in 
marriage.” 


274 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


“What a cunning fellow you are. Tell me, Jack Hal- 
stead, what has brought you here this morning, that I 
may change this subject, which I believe is quite admissa- 
ble so far as you are concerned.” 

Jack’s eyes twinkled with merriment and he answered: 
“It is this. Miss Mansfield: Those labor men with whom 
you are in such sympathy have taken the law into their 
own hands and have closed all the car shops .and railroad 
offices in the city, and are now holding at bay an armed 
force of police that are in duty bound to quell this riot 
and restore peace once more. Unless those fellows can 
be induced to desist from their efforts, there will be blood 
shed upon the streets and much mourning in San Fran- 
cisco before the night comes down.” Ruth had seated 
herself in her dainty wicker chair, which she had trimmed 
with pink ribbons. Her navy blue frock and the efful- 
gent beauty of her face made a pretty contrast and the 
hot blood went tingling through the veins of Jack Hal- 
stead as he drarrk in the lovely vision before him. As 
he spoke she arose and began to put on her bonnet and 
gloves. 

“What are you going to do. Miss Mansfield?” inquired 
Jack, who by this time had learned that this dauntless 
spirit never made any false motions. 

“Why, Mr. Halstead, I am going to the scene of action, 
of course. These men must be brought to their senses 
and prevented from any rash measure.” 

“But,” said Halstead, “the street cars have been stopped 
in that direction and the women and children ordered out 
of the neighborhood.” 

“That does not matter,” replied Ruth. “I can get there 
in some other way.” 

The two had stepped out upon the walk. Ruth paused 


A WOMAN’S METHODS. 


275 


and in her enthusiasm forgot reserve as she saw a lovely 
animal tied at her very door, and asked: 

“Is this your horse, Jack?” 

“Yes, Miss Mansfield, but he is a fractious brute. You 
can not ride him.” 

“Indeed I can. Assist me to mount and see how well 
T can sit.” 

Placing her foot in the stirrup, the next moment she 
went flying down the street and crossed Market in the 
direction of the disturbing elements of the peace. Jack 
Halstead’s eyes followed her with true admiration, and 
he exclaimed: “Ye gods, behold the woman! Who- 
ever thought she would dare to ride that fiery beast?” 
As he gazed after her he somehow realized that there 
beat within his breast a truer and tenderer love for her than 
he had ever known for woman. As he strode on in the 
direction where his horse and its fair rider had disap- 
peared, he was pondering in his heart the words which 
he had caught as they fell from her lips in her own pri- 
vate soliloquy: “Ruth Mansfield will never marry until 
she can make her own choice of a husband.” 

“By jove!” said he aloud, “that cuts me of¥ entirely, 
for I am not the man she would choose ; far from it. Wish 
I were more of a philanthropist, or an anarchist, or a revo- 
lutionist, or whatever the dear woman is, for then I might 
hope to win favor in her sight.” 

Could Ruth have heard this soliloquy as the man was 
plodding on, nearing the scenes of strife where Capital 
and Labor stood arrayed in open arms against each other, 
she would surely have laughed at the epithets, and es- 
pecially at “anarchist,” for it was far from her heart to 
have any ^sympathy with anarchism. 

In five minutes from the time Ruth had left her own door 
she was dashing right among the crowds, and paused in 


276 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


the midst of a squad of labor men and shouted, as she 
wheeled her horse into position: “Peace be unto you.” 
In an instant a hundred hats went off and a gentle salute 
from a hundred brawny throats was wafted out on the 
silent air. The leader of the labor men removed his hat 
as he drew near and inquired: “Miss Mansfield, what 
has brought you here at this time? Can you help us in 
any way?” 

“I am sure I do not know,” replied the lady, “until you 
tell me what you are aiming to do. Are you trying to get 
the monopolists of San Francisco to yield to your de- 
mands by shedding the blood of men? Are you trying 
to get, by physical force, that which you in all reason 
know you can never obtain except through education?” 

The man’s cheek crimsoned and Ruth could see that her 
words had smote upon his heart like bullets, but she waited 
for him to speak. “The truth is, madam, we demand cer- 
tain measures ; and those measures we must have gr these 
shops will remain closed for the next year.” 

“Yes,” said Ruth, “and undoubtedly your demand is a 
just one. But, is the method which you have adopted the 
surest and quickest way to settlement? Think wisely over 
this step you have taken. Take it before your council for 
a second consideration before a shot is fired. I think you 
will change your mind before to-morrow’s sun. Mean- 
while, sir, I have come to invite the men of both parties, 
Capital and Labor, to hold an open and free discussion 
of the questions involved this evening at the Mechanic’s 
Pavilion. The Working Woman’s Congress of this city 
will be there to receive and will provide a feast of good 
things for all who come. If you accept this invitation, 
we shall be glad to have you send us ten good men to help 
the women in preparing the feast.” 

Graciously thanking her for the kind invitation, the 


A WOMAN’S METHODS. 


277 


officer replied: “I think, Miss Mansfield, that you can rely 
upon our men. We will attend in a body, for thereby we 
may arrive at some wise settlement of this unhappy 
business.” 

At that moment Jack Halstead came up, and taking 
the bridle of Ranger, who stood pawing the ground with 
his powerful hoof, betokening his anxiety to be away, 
said: “Miss Mansfield, I have ordered a carriage for you. 
Allow me ; I will assist you to alight.” Ruth gave her hand 
to him, and stepping down from the saddle stood at his 
side. She detected in his manner a spirit of undue tender- 
ness, and the hand clasp that lingered longer than the 
time necessary for assistance brought a crimson wave to 
her cheek. To cover her embarrassment, she patted 
Ranger’s nose and slipped a sugar plum into his mouth. 
Halstead threw the bridle over his arm, and together the 
two crossed over to the armed police, who stood in solemn 
parlance, not knowing just what their course should be. 
Approaching the chief, Ruth gave him her hand and re- 
peated the invitation for the Capital and Labor men to 
meet in the Pavilion that night for an open and free dis- 
cussion of all their difficulties. In a most impressive 
manner, she said: “Kind sir, with all diligence, spread 
this invitation abroad, for much depends upon this meet- 
ing. It is a woman’s method of bringing about a peaceful 
arbitration between two opposing elements.” 

At that moment the carriage drew up and Ruth shook 
the hand of Jack Halstead and said: “We shall shortly 
need your assistance at the Pavilion.” Then stepping into 
the carriage she was driven away. She went directly to 
the messenger’s office and dispatched messengers to all 
the different parts of the city, to the teachers of each circle 
of working women, whose duty it became upon receiving 
the message, to hasten with all diligence to their members 


278 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


and lay the plan of work before them. She ordered a 
grand rally of the women to assemble at three o’clock 
sharp at the Pavilion to prepare a feast for the multitude, 
who were to hold counsel there. The Working Woman’s 
Congress had been expecting this call. Previous arrange- 
ments had been made for the Pavilion, and everything 
was in readiness to turn the key at a moment’s warning. 
They had felt for days that this uprising would come. 
With wonderful adroitness, this body of consecrated 
women, mothers, daughters and sisters, rushed to the call 
of their young priestess, who had taught them that in 
times of war love was better than bullets. It was wonder- 
ful to see how everything fitted so beautifully to the oc- 
casion. 

Psa. 68; 17: ‘The chariots of God are twenty thou- 
sand, even thousands of angels; the Lord is among them.” 

A master touch seemed to be given to every hand, as 
with the dexterity of skilled workmen, the tables were 
spread and bountifully laden for the eivening. Here, too, 
was Marie with her gentle, suave manner, speaking 
words of peace and good will to those sturdy business- 
like women who were able to grapple with such a mighty 
problem as that of to-day. How new and strange all this 
seemed to her, as she watched the busy, work-stained 
hands, so deft and skilled in labor. She heard their plain 
and homely language as they talked and greeted each 
other, and somehow, she could not tell from whence it 
came, but she found that she was in very truth enjoying 
the intercourse she held with them. 




AT THE RECEPTION 



CHAPTER XXIX. 


THE WORKING WOMAN’S CONGRESS. 

At exactly seven o’clock the doors were opened at the 
Mechanic’s Pavilion and the hosts began to file in. Within 
the space of one-half hour the auditorium was packed to 
its utmost capacity. White and black, American and 
foreign born, men and women, gathered into one con- 
glomerate mass to listen to the discussion of the evening. 

The utmost excitement prevailed. No such gathering 
as this had ever before been assembled in the city of San 
Francisco in the interests of Capital and Labor. Here 
there was to be open and free discussion of all their 
wrongs. It was not known who were to be the speakers 
of the evening. Strong and wearisome barterings were 
heard in diflerent parts of the house and most extravagant 
language was being used by many of the populace. 

At length a host of gentle women were seen to come 
upon the platform and take their seats, followed by rhany 
of San Francisco’s noble men. Great was the gathering. 
Capital and Labor sat down together. At that moment 
Miss Mansfield arose and stepped across the platform, 
then taking the hand of his Honor, the Mayor, she led 
him to the front and gave him a chair that until this 
moment had been vacant. Turning to the audience she 
said: “Beloved citizens of San Francisco, we to-night, 
for the first time in the history of our great city, are 
assembled together in council to discuss the differences 
between the rich and poor. We all come as members of 
one family with naught in our hearts but love for each 
other. We, the Working Woman’s Congress in council 
assembled, bring you tender greetings and extend to you 


282 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


a cordial welcome with us to-night. Our honorable Mayor 

will take the chair and preside over this council 

and let us render unto him that which is his due, honor 
and obedience.” 

As Ruth sat down the air vibrated with applause. The 
Mayor arose to his feet and stepped to the front of the 
platform. A hushed stillness seemed to pervade the air 
and hearts beat in solemn accord with each other as the 
deep, rich-toned voice of the man was lifted up to God in 
prayer, invoking a Father’s blessing upon his children. 
Taking his seat, the voice of a hundred women rang out 
in melody as they sang together: “How Firm a Founda- 
tion, Ye Saints of the Lord!” 

As the melody of their inspired voices was floating 
away on the air, his Honor, the Mayor, again arose and 
addressed the assemblage. “My beloved people, I count 
myself happy to-night for the privilege this moment af- 
fords. Standing as I do before you, looking down into 
your earnest, trustful faces, we can but feel that heart 
answers to heart and that the same good-will that I bear 
to you is borne back to me again; that your interests are 
my interests and that your woes are my woes, and that 
whatsoever influences are brought to bear upon your life 
must also tend to lower or elevate the moral standard of 
our city and each individual as well. The same is true 
that whatever inspires you to greatness, piety and truth, 
must also ennoble and make me your chieftain, great with 
my people; and since this occasion has in it the same in- 
terest to me as to yourselves, I desire that you make your 
plaint known to us, that a fair and impartial consideration 
may be tendered to you. In order that this may be done, 
we give to you the first hour to review your wrongs and 
suggest, if you can, their possible remedy.” 

Taking out his watch, he said: “I rule that no speaker 


THE WORKING WOMAN’S CONGRESS. 


283 


shall be heard upon the same subject twice, and five 
minutes will be the extent of time for each one to speak. 
Who will be the first to cite a wrong from either side, 
Capital or Labor?” 

For the space of two minutes perfect silence reigned 
throughout the assemblage and one could have heard 
a pin drop in that vast audience. Then a man with a pale 
face and high-open brow arose, just down in front of the 
speaker’s stand. His hand shook and his knees trembled 
beneath him. For some time he stood battling with weak- 
ness and every ear was strained to catch the words when he 
should at last begin to speak. The silence was growing 
painful, but at length he said: “Has your Honor regarded 
me well?” 

“Very well, young man; what have you to offer?” 

“I am hungry,” said the man; “I have hands to work 
and a spirit willing to endure hardship, but, sir, I have 
sought in vain for labor. Capital has gold stored away 
and the banks are literally groaning beneath their burden. 
A hundred men in this house to-night can make this same 
complaint. Will you give us a remedy for the wrong?” 

As the man sat down, five hundred men arose to their 
feet and five hundred voices repeated in concert, “We are 
hungry. The markets are glutted with that which labor 
could buy, but we are denied that boon. Labor is bound 
by monopoly. We have willing hands, ready to work, 
but are obliged to repeat: We are hungry.” 

As the five hundred men took their seats, a woman 
arose in the back part of the house. She was delicately 
formed and her body thinly clad. She hugged a nursing 
child to her bosom and drew a tattered shawl closely 
about her. Her voice was tremulous with fright as she 
said: “Can your Honor hear my voice?” 

“Yes, my good woman, I can hear you.” 


284 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


Stretching out her hands unto him as unto Heaven she 
most pathetically said: “In San Francisco there are five 
hundred drinking saloons! They take the bread from 
the mouths of my children and I, too, am hungry !” 

The Mayor was seen to wipe a tear from his eye and a 
number of Capitalists upon the platform moved uneasily 
in their seats. They were in the liquor business. 

The next that arose was a little girl. A pale, sad-faced 
child. She wore a coarse frock, while her hands were 
seamed and calloused from labor. She came close down 
in front and looked pleadingly up into the good man’s 
face. 

“Mr. Mayor, I am only ten years old. My father is 
dead and my mother is poor. I have to work in the shops 
to earn our bread. Please, sir, can’t I go to school?” 

And so the complaints one after another were heard. 
The good Mayor was growing bewildered. He took off 
his glasses, adjusted them again and was about to rise to 
his feet when another woman arose. 

She was tall, angular and most unbecomingly clad. On 
her arm she carried a reticule and in her hand a green 
umbrella. Her voice was squeaky and shrill. It was 
Mahitable Ann Grimshaw in disguise taking a part on 
this stage of life. She began : “Mr. Mayor, your Honor 
looks very honorable indeed to we common folk; and as 
we look up into your face to-night, especially we women 
folks as are maidens — ” There was great applause. To re- 
store order, Mahitable drummed on the floor with her 
green umbrella. At last the audience grew quiet and she 
continued: “Now, Mr. Mayor, you must extend my time, 
for it was impossible for me to keep back that applause. 
It was this, sir, that I was about to remark: In all that 
has been said here to-night, these good people have failed 
to touch upon the most vital pint. You see, sir, I live in 


THE WORKING WOMAN’S CONGRESS. 


285 


a tenement house and get the rent cheaper if I pay the 
water bill. Well, times got hard and I could not pay that 
bill. Then the water was turned off and it has been seven 
long months, sir, seven long months since I have had a 
good bath.” 

There was great laughter. 

“Now I ask your Honor, haven’t poor folks just as good 
a right to be clean as the capitalists in whose houses we 
live?” 

The Mayor had arisen to his feet, but Mahitable con- 
tinued to talk: “Last night, sir, as I watched by the 
cradleside of a neighbor’s dying babe, the candle went out. 
You see as how poor folks can’t afford to burn gas. In 
the dark, with that dead baby in my arms, and the poor 
bereaved mother clinging to my hand, it was to me the 
blackest night that ever settled down over San Francisco.” 

Mahitable took out her kerchief and blew her nose most 
profusely. “And now, Mr. Mayor, I want to ask your 
Honor, haven’t poor women got a right to see their babies 
die as well as the mistresses of mansions? Haven’t we 
got a right to see as well as to be clean? And I want to 
ask ye, sir, why the water and light don’t belong to the 
city that it may be paid for by the taxation of Capital so 
that it may be diffused alike to the rich and the poor? 
I tell ye, Mr. Mayor,” and she bradished her umbrella 
to make it more emphatic, “what Capital needs is to find 
its heart and then come down to the door of the poor 
and bestow its love upon them.” 

The Mayor was still standing, his watch in hand, when 
Miss Mahitable said: “I am nothing but a child. It is for 
the want of light and water that has made me age so fast.” 

There was great laughter. 

“But before I close my remarks, I wish to call your 
attention to the City Railroad system. You see, sir, we 


286 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


women folks are feeble critters and can’t walk very far, 
and as we can’t all live in the same place, we must neces- 
sarily be a long distance from our work. We pronounce 
it a burning shame that we must be taxed three dollars 
a month for two rides a day. Yes, sir, it amounts to just 
that to the great majority of wage working women. If 
the city owned the system, it could afford to issue tickets 
for barely enough to cover the expenses of the enterprise, 
which could be made to us for less than one dollar a 
month. Now, Mr. Mayor, we lay this complaint 
heavily upon your heart, for Capital hasn’t got any heart 
to lay it upon, and pray for a speedy deliverance from our 
wrongs.” Mahitable sat down amid great applause, for 
the populace was most uproarious. 

As yet nothing had been said by the strikers and Ruth 
was beginning to grow uneasy. Presently a man arose 
upon the platform. It was the president of the Federated 
Trades. Coming to the front, his face betrayed a depth 
of feeling and his calm demeanor argued for good. Tak- 
ing the hand of the Mayor, he said: “Your Honor has 
expressed satisfaction at being able to be with us to-night, 
but know you, sir, that another heart is just as glad as 
your own. The words that have been uttered here this 
hour, spoken from the depths of aggrieved hearts, have 
given me a deeper thought and a truer purpose than I 
ever before dreamed that I could possess. 

“The woes of the city poor are common with those of 
the railroad men; and their suffering is our suffering; 
their cause is our cause; and this matter of wrong can 
never be settled until it is settled right. 

“As the president of the Federation of Organized 
Unions, I am ready to declare to this people that I believe 
we are in the wrong. Not wrong in demanding our 
rights, but wrong in the methods we have adopted. Ever 


THE WORKING WOMAN’S CONGRESS. 


287 


since that memorable time when Cain and Abel just out- 
side the Garden of Eden brought their offerings unto the 
Lord, Labor has been abased and Capital has held a high 
hand in the judicial governments of men. To-day, after 
six thousand years. Labor is beginning to understand the 
meaning of God’s parable of Cain and Abel and to enter 
into a comprehension of what it means, and not only 
beginning to clamor for its rights, but demand justice 
between man and man. The question that yet remains 
to be answered here to-night is, how can these rights be 
obtained? And what can the people do to strike off the 
shackles consigning them to ignorance, misery and crime? 

“Solomon very wisely said: Tn a multitude of counsel- 
ors there is safety,’ and now since we have listened to 
the grievances of the poor, let us hear from the side of 
Capital an answer to these questions under discussion, 
telling us why these rights should not be granted unto us, 
or yield to the demand that is made by organized labor. 
The trades unions are composed of men with hearts as big 
as ever beat within a human breast. They are a united 
brotherhood. They are men who are willing to live and 
to let live. They are men who love their wives and chil- 
dren, who desire to protect them from ignominy and 
poverty. They are willing to die like men. We have 
made a demand upon Capital, and it is a just one. Shall 
we desist and bow down before these men who would 
make us their slaves? No, my brotherhood, no! We will 
not make our demand less, but we will ask for more at the 
hands of Capital. We will ask that the treasuries be un- 
locked and that our brothers be given labor for their 
idle hands to do. We will ask that the saloons be closed 
that Capital may not gorge itself on the money that 
should go to feed the children and the disconsolate wife 


288 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


of the drunkard. We will ask that child labor shall be 
frowned upon, and that the city feed and educate the 
children of its poor. Yea, we will acquit ourselves like 
men, and when we cast our ballots we will legislate like 
men with sound minds instead of like fools, as we have 
done in the past. We are especially grateful to the Work- 
ing Woman’s Congress and for the opportunity they have 
afforded us to-night to enlarge our demand for the people. 
They have given us a new insight into the business on 
hand and as men and brothers we will yet testify to them 
of our greatness by the new methods we shall adopt.” 

The president took his seat amid deafening applause 
of women and men. The Mayor arose, came and stood 
close to his people. At last from the depths of the great 
man’s heart, he spoke: “Beloved children of the city, 
the problem which you have to-night given me to solve 
is a great one and worthy the consideration of all great 
and good people. I heartily give my hand to the work- 
ingman and say to the brotherhood, T am with you.’ The 
president of the Federated Trades has just said, ‘This 
question can never be settled until it is settled right.’ 
That is indeed true. There is but one way to settle public 
difficulties and that is by the power of the ballot. If you 
wish to break the chains that monopoly has cast upon 
you, you must vote. If you want to close up the saloons 
and drive out the ‘League of Freedom,’ which is the most 
damnable monopoly that ever cursed the poor, you must 
vote. If you want to protect the children and elevate the 
womanhood of the city, state and nation, give woman the 
ballot and she will protect herself.. If you want the city 
to own its water and light and the things that are a neces- 
sity to all its people, agitate, educate, and vote for the 
things you want. Who holds the power of the ballot in 


THE WORKING WOMAN’S CONGRESS. 


289 


their hands, the rich or the poor? Fellow citizens, you 
know well to-night that whatever Labor shall demand by 
the power of the ballot, it shall be done unto you.” 

Then addressing himself directly to the strikers, he said : 
“My sons, you are worthy of better deeds; clothed with 
the intelligence of gods, blessed with the power of reason, 
free as the bird that mounts upon her wing. Labor can 
soar to heights where she can wear the imperial crown 
if she will only work in wisdom and rule by ballots instead 
of bullets. 

“So, boys, declare your strike ol¥ and go to work like 
men who are masters and not slaves. Eighty per cent, of 
the voters of America are workingmen. Think you not 
that eighty labor ballots will not tell against twenty of 
Capital? Don’t be deceived, for ‘in wisdom there is 
strength,’ and ignorance is the mother of strife.” 

The Mayor sat down and Ruth came to the front with 
a look of inexpressible satisfaction resting upon her coun- 
tenance. Then her clear and distinct voice was heard to 
the uttermost parts of the house inviting the laboring 
men and their friends to go in and partake of the feast 
that had been prepared for all. She paused a moment, 
then sang the anthem written expressly for the labor re- 
form. It was Ruth’s voice, and long after the last strain 
had died away the people still sat spellbound. 

Not waiting for the audience to applaud, she left the 
stage and went directly to the committee, that she might 
be the first to welcome the brotherhood to the feast pre- 
pared by the working women of the city. 

What a glorious opportunity to work and scatter seed. 
Every brave woman was at her post. They all felt and 
saw the powerful influence of woman’s love. It did its 
work upon their hearts, and gave promise of a rich harvest 
in the labor reform. Men ate and drank and for once 


290 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


were merry without wine. When all had departed, a 
company of women could have been found in a little 
side room kneeling in prayer, imploring God’s blessing to 
rest upon the labors of the day. 

The morning papers heralded tidings- that the strike 
was off and that the railroad men had gone to work upon 
the old terms. 

A long account was also given of the previous evening, 
and much extravagant praise was given to the Woman’s 
Congress that had so nobly arbitrated for good. Ruth 
read -the account and blessed God for the noble corpora- 
tion of women. The great object of one day’s work was 
gained, but what the rest would be she could not tell. She 
knew though that He who had turned the wheel thus far 
would turn it still. 



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VILLA CHAPEL. 





CHAPTER XXX. 


PRESIDENT BRUMBLEBUG. 

A few days after the events recorded in the preceding 
chapter, a committee of gentlemen waited upon Miss 
Mansfield at her home. It was the well-known President 
Brumblebug and the general superintendent of the rail- 
road company. They had come to offer congratulations 
for her excellent work and to proffer her a purse of gold 
in appreciation of her service in helping to bring about the 
peaceful settlement between the company and its em- 
ployees. Ruth most proudly refused to accept the money, 
saying: “What I have done was fof the sake of my 
people and not for gain.” They first considered her re- 
fusal the result of undue modesty and again urged her 
acceptance of it. 

“I beg your pardon, sir,” said Miss Mansfield, “you do 
not understand me; I refuse to accept your gift.” 

The chairman was exceedingly astonished at her atti- 
tude and asked: “Will you please explain to me, Miss 
Mansfield, why you do not accept so handsome an offer- 
ing? I assure you it is not presented as a gift, but as a 
just reward of appreciation for service, and which we feel 
you have richly earned.” 

“Yes,” she said, “I can answer you. It is this; I regard 
the railroad monopoly as a heartless and cruel wrong. It 
not only abases its employes and grinds the face of the 
poor, but rides in scarlet over the nobility and would like 
to wear the crown as King of America. Were I to accept 
your offering, I should be sanctioning your course and 
lending my influence to the side of wrong. I regard,” 


294 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


said the noble girl, “the whole system as a dangerous 
menace to our country and a blight upon our rising re- 
public.” 

“Then,” said the man, “your intercession was not done 
in our behalf, nor through any sense of honor or respect 
for the corporation, but from some other motive?” 

“You are quite right, sir,” said Ruth. “I labored for 
other motive. My whole and only thought was in the 
interests of labor. Every body of organized power, like 
the physical part of man, must have brains as well as 
heart and muscle if it would be evenly balanced. Our 
workingmen had the heart and physical force that day, 
but lacked the mental power. Had they this, they would 
not have acted rashly as they did. It was only a matter 
of education after all. These men have been given a 
lesson which will cause them to think wisely in the future 
before another step is taken. Such a course is disastrous 
to themselves and families. But be assured. President 
Brumblebug, that the difficulty with the workingmen is 
not at an end, and I warn your company to draw a looser 
rein over your employes if they wish to avert a fiercer 
storm which is just at hand. There is to be a general 
round-up by and by and the chains that now bind the 
workingmen in the power of monopoly will, ere long, 
clank at the very heels of Capital.” 

They looked at her with astonishment and asked : “At 
what do you hint. Miss Mansfield? Have those fellows 
any organized plan of action whereby they can make such 
power felt?” 

“Most certainly they have, sir. A strong and resistless 
organization in the form of a political party which stands 
pledged to-day in the interests of labor. This body of men 
will first try their ballots against the railroad monopoly 
of America, and if they do not find this method effectual, 


PRESIDENT BRUMBLEBUG. 


295 


they will try their bullets.” The man looked angry. 
“Then, madam, you would give me to understand that 
you, as well as they, are an enemy to the corporation.” 

“Not in any personal sense. President Brumblebug; 
but an enemy to that spirit which thirsts after power that 
it may arrest freedom and make slaves of men; an enemy 
to that power which can take into its embrace a thing so 
loathsome and evil as the liquor traffic.” 

“I beg your pardon, madam,” replied that august per- 
sonage, “we are not in any sense allied to the traffic.” 

“Indeed,” replied Miss Mansfield, “can it be possible 
that you do not know that there is a saloon in almost 
every railroad depot in California? If you do not wish 
to bear the odium of that traffic, you had better close out 
your saloons. Otherwise I shall feel perfectly free to 
speak of you as in league with the blackest crime that 
ever cursed a nation.” 

President Brumblebug, well versed in the science of 
politeness, for a moment forgot his ethics, and said: “I 
presume. Miss Mansfield, that you belong to that set of 
religious cranks who are making the city rife with their 
howls about temperance?” 

“I am happy to say that I do, sir. Would you criticize 
my religious career?” 

“Well, n-no, madam; I don’t know your tactics well 
enough to judge of their merit My time is spent in busi- 
ness. Religion will do for those who have not brains 
enough for business.” 

What an auspicious moment! Ruth’s hand rested 
upon her Bible, which lay on the center table. Opening 
to Revelations, she read from the third chapter and sev- 
enteenth verse: “Because thou sayeth I am rich and in- 
creased with goods and have need of nothing, and know- 
eth not that thou art wretched and miserable and poor 


296 


BUTH AND MARIE. 


and blind and naked, I counsel thee to buy gold tried in 
the fire that thou mayest be rich, and white raiment that 
thou mayest be clothed and that shame of thy nakedness 
do not appear, and anoint thy eyes with eye salve that 
thou mayest see.” 

The man rose to go ; he evidently was not pleased with 
Miss Mansfield; and his disappointment was plainly de- 
picted upon his countenance. 

Standing with his hat in hand, he said: “I am sorry, 
madam, not to have left this purse with you, but perhaps 
you can suggest a place where it may be bestowed to do 
good.” 

“Yes,” replied Ruth, “I would be glad to have you di- 
vide it among the men in your employ who are working 
at starvation wages. No doubt they will be glad of it for 
the comfort of their families.” 

The gentlemen bowed themselves out, carrying a crest- 
fallen spirit such as the poor have sometimes felt when 
rebuffed. And as they passed around the corner Ruth 
heard President Brumblebug remark to his superintend- 
ent: “Strange woman that! Thunder and lightning! 
She is a whole cyclone of enthusiasm! What an acces- 
sion she would be to the business world if her bent was 
only that way.” 

Ruth closed the door and was turning to enter her 
private boudoir when she came face to face with Marie, 
who was just convulsed with laughter. She had over- 
heard part of the conversation of her friend as she fanned 
the flames of zeal in the interests of Labor. 

“Mrs. Stocklaid!” exclaimed the girl, “how came you 
here? What a start you gave me!” 

“I came in at the side entrance,” explained that lady, 
“and seeing you with President Brumblebug, decided to 
remain behind the scenes until he had taken his depart- 


PRESIDENT BRUMBLEBUG. 


297 


ure; but, dear me, Ruth! what an original piece of hu- 
manity you are ! Who would have thought that a work- 
ing girl could be possessed of such power and have the 
courage to thus address those gentlemen? Why, my dear, 
you actually made the man cringe before you 1” 

“Thank you,” said Ruth, “for the compliment, but ere 
long monopolists will not only cringe before individuals, 
but they will be made to bow down to the mandates of La- 
bor. Wait until we have had a little more time to educate 
the ballot and we will teach Capital a lesson.” 

Then taking Marie’s -face between her hands, she im- 
printed a kiss upon her lips and tenderly said: “What 
has brought you to me this morning? Is it Polly Hop- 
kins or Rose Sommers, or some other poor unfortunate 
that has sent you out in quest of a counselor?” 

“It is neither,” replied Mrs. Stocklaid, “but I have come 
to break some glad news to you. Earnest awoke ra- 
tional this morning and has asked to see his wife and 
son. Would you not like to accompany us to Stockton 
while I pay a visit to my husband.” Ruth said “Yes, in- 
deed,” and together the two stepped abroad the train, ac- 
companied by little Earnie, who was never happier than 
when in company with “Auntie Ruth.” She in return 
loved the boy with a tender affection. It had been a 
cross to know that the little fellow was strangely bereft 
of a father’s love. 

She had been thinking ever since Marie came that morn- 
ing what a glad day to the mother and child ! Oh, if the 
father could only be restored to his right mind and be- 
come redeemed from the curse of drink. Somehow she 
had a premonition that a better day was coming to Marie, 
and she said to her: “What would you do, dear, if you 
were indeed to find Earnest restored to his right mind? 
Would you at once bring him to your home in the city?” 


298 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


Marie thought a moment, then answered: “I do not 
know, Ruth. I think I should feel much afraid of him 
hereafter and I should fear to live with him again. I 
wish I could banish the memory of that awful experience 
from my mind. He certainly would have killed me had 
help not been near at hand.” 

Ruth took the wife’s hand in her own and said : 
“Marie, did you ever think what home would be if Earnest 
were a Christian?” 

“Yes,” she had thought, “but could it ever be?” 

For some time the two sat in silence, and at length she 
spoke: “Ruth, tell me what I can do to bring my hus- 
band to see aright. I have prayed for him so long that it 
seems almost a helpless case.” 

“ ‘No man cometh unto the Father except he be drawn.’ 
Dear Marie, I will pray with you that Earnest may be 
saved from sin. God can not only save him from sin, but 
will keep him from being tempted above what he is able 
to bear.” 

At length they arrived at the asylum and Earnest was 
brought into the presence of wife and child. His face 
was pale, his step tremulous, and at first he seemed to be 
haunted as with shadows, but after a while he grew at 
ease and seemed quite his old, old self again. 

Tenderly he pressed his wife to his bosom and told her 
how glad he was to see her and his child again. 

Earnie climbed into his lap and caressed him with his 
baby hands, while his brown curls lay against his papa’s 
cheek, making a picture of loveliness such as Marie had 
never before beheld — husband and son. She thought of 
the fullness of joy that might yet be hers if God would 
only restore him to her with a redeemed soul and a sane 
mind. From the innermost depths of her heart she 
prayed that it might be so, and that her cup might be 


PRESIDENT BRUMBLEBUG. 


299 


filled with the sweetness of a husband’s love. Ruth then 
entered the room and beheld the happy group. Her heart 
was also ihrilled with pleasure, for this was the nearest 
approach she had seen in many a year to the Earnest 
Stocklaid she had known in far-off Germany. His love- 
ly face and clear, intelligent eye — not heated now with 
rum — were so like the past. She saw him as the beloved 
husband of her friend and she, too, paused for a moment 
before offering her hand to send up a silent petition that 
God would restore him every whit whole. Ruth took his 
hand in hers and expressed her delight to find hirn so 
much improved and was about to take a seat in the group 
when the doctor came and asked them to say good-bye, 
for his patient must return again to his room. 

Marie begged that the time be extended. The good 
doctor smiled and said: “No, Mrs. Stocklaid, your hus- 
band is yet ill and any overweariness would only tend to 
make him worse.” 

The loving wife clasped her arms about his neck and 
whispered some parting words, and then aloud she said: 
“Be brave, my noble husband. Ere long you will be well 
again; then we shall have you at home.” 

Little Earnie clung to his knee. “Dood-by, papa; we’ll 
turn to see you adain, papa, we will.” 

The father pressed the child to his bosom, and for the 
first time in his life the boy realized what it meant to have 
a father’s love. The doctor gently put his hand upon Mr. 
Stocklaid’s arm and led him away just as his mind began 
to wander again. This showed plainly that he was far 
from being rational. He begged piteously to be allowed 
to go home with his wife and child, but after much per - 
suasion was induced to go with the doctor. 

“The case is not a hopeless one,” said the physician 
at parting with Mrs. Stocklaid. “It may require weeks, 


300 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


perhaps months, before we can pronounce him cured, but 
you may hope for entire restoration of his mind.” 

It was with a heavy heart that Marie returned to her 
cottage home. As she meditated upon the interview with 
her husband and clung to the precious memory of his 
affection, so sweet to herself and darling son, she felt 
that her dream of the past had returned, bringing with 
it new hope and she longed for her beloved companion as 
never before. But the heaviness came from the fear that 
should his sanity be restored rum would again rob him 
of his reason and drag him down to ruin. What could 
she do to save him? 

Marie Stocklaid was a true woman, and the love that 
she had once borne to her husband had continually found 
its abiding place in her heart. Its dimness and her dead- 
ened sensibilities had been occasioned from the intense 
suffering she had endured at his hands. But to-day her 
perfect love for him, which had been slumbering, was 
awakened with new power, and Earnest Stocklaid was as 
dear to his wife as at any previous time in her life. She 
began to ponder in her heart what she could do if God 
perchance should restore him to her again, how she could 
protect him from the curse of drink? “Oh,” she thought, 
“what a happy home ours might be if Earnest could only 
be himself.” While she meditated, little Earnie came 
and put his arms about her neck and said: “My own 
dear precious mamma! I love you and my fazzer. Say, 
mamma, don’t you fink Dod will div our dear papa back 
to us by and by all well?” 

“Yes, my little son, mamma does think so; and if papa 
was only a Christian we would be so happy, would we 
not, Earnie?” 

The little fellow opened his big brown eyes and looked 
most wonderingly into his mother’s face, and then asked: 


PRESIDENT BRUMBLEBUG. 


301 


“What tan make him a Tristian, mamma, tan’t you tell 
him how?” 

“I have told him, my precious boy, and now it all rests 
with God and your dear father whether he will be a Chris- 
tian or not.” 

“Well, mamma, why don’t you ask Dod to make my 
papa a Tristian then?” 

“I have repeatedly asked him, Earnie, but somehow 
my prayers are without avail.” 

“Well, zen, mamma, I will ask him; taus Dod will 
surely hear a little boy.” 

And suited to his word, the little fellow knelt down at 
his mother’s knee, clasped his chubby little hands together, 
and lifting his lovely eyes to Heaven, prayed: “Oh, Dod! 
Please make my papa a Tristian so we tan be happy wis 
him at home.” And the little heart, so full of desire, 
sobbed, and Marie kissed the tears from his cheek and 
said: “I am sure God will hear your prayer, dear Ear- 
nie, and we shall have papa with us soon.” 




SENATE CHAMBER. 







CHAPTER XXXL 


THE SCIENCE OF GOVERNMENT. 

The hot and troublous campaign of i8 — was just draw- 
ing to a close. Many and varied discussions pertaining 
to the science of government were also at a close, for 
on that day the test was to be made, and the men of 
America were to cast their ballot for the man who was to 
occupy the highest seat in the nation. Who would “get 
there” was the question to be decided. 

Four strong tickets were in the field; the Democratic, 
the Repi^blican, the People’s party and the Prohibition 
party Capital and Labor were most vociferously elec- 
tioiieering for their candidates, while the Prohibitionists 
were appealing to the hearts and conscience of men, plead- 
ing with them to vote on the side of right. Many women, 
too, were up in action. They were challenging men to 
vote for the interests of home and the children. Ruth 
was among them, and in a womanly way was asking men 
to vote for the enfranchisement of women. She had just 
influenced a crowd to vote the People’s ticket when Mr. 
Halstead came up and touched her elbow. He said: 
“Miss Mansfield, I challenge you to electioneer for the 
Prohibition party. Anybody who can make such an out- 
cry about the liquor traffic as you, ought to labor to outlaw 
the saloon.” 

Ruth looked him square in the eye and said: “You, 
Mr. Halstead, challenge the help of a woman in politics! 
I thought you considered a woman in politics out of her 
sphere. How is it that you can ask me to work for any 
political party?” 


204 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


The man bit his lip, then at length said, as a partial 
evasion to the question: “Well, Miss Mansheld, you are 
here and working; why not labor on the side of right?” 

“That is just what I am doing, Mr. Halstead. Prohi- 
bition of the liquor traffic is good enough so far as it 
goes, but if you want to strike a blow at the root of 
the nineteenth century, you must hew down the body 
and not think to fell the giant by cutting of¥ his limbs. 
Why! Do you not see what a high hand monopoly is 
playing in this game of politics? Votes have been bought 
and sold here to-day like merchandise. Vote against 
monopoly and we will have knocked the brains out of 
the thing and the rest of the body will adjust itself to the 
right. Besides, the People’s party will, ere long, we trust, 
be the means of giving woman the franchise, and that 
to-day is the chiefest of our desires.” 

“Yes, Miss Mansfield, you are right about many things, 
but it is unwomanly in you to desire the ballot. We men 
love best to feel that woman is willing to look up to us 
for protection.” 

“That sounds very pretty, Mr. Halstead, but man has 
proven to the gentler sex that his protection to her is like 
the wolf for the lamb. Man votes to satisfy his own gain. 
Woman would vote for the betterment of the people and 
the protection of the home. No, thank you, I will work 
for the protection of Labor, and when it has its right, 
then woman will come in for her share of justice. Put 
the ballot in the hand of woman and woman will banish 
the saloon and send it hurling to the bottom of Hades !” 

Jack Halstead smiled back at the girl who had not only 
challenged his vote, but his love; but as he was uncon- 
vinced he turned away and began to shout: “General 
Bidwell! Vote for General John Bidwell and the over- 
throw of rum!” 


THE SCIENCE OF GOVERNMENT 


305 


Many people had gathered around as the two discussed 
the merits of their party, and at the conclusion a shout 
went up and a multitude rushed off to the polls to vote 
for the protection of labor. Halstead turned back when 
he saw Ruth standing alone and said to her: “That was 
not fair in you, Miss Mansfield, when you are just as 
radically opposed to the saloon as I can possibly be.” 

Ruth smiled and said: “Don’t feel badly, Mr. Hal- 
stead. Upon the science of government we are most 
happily agreed; our only difference being in the method. 
Why do you Prohibitionists not take up the labor ques- 
tion as well as the temperance? According to my way of 
thinking, this question of the people against monopoly 
must be settled first; and when that is done, then the liquor 
traffic can be swept away like a thistledown before the 
wind. I am making votes to-day for the People’s party, 
but in four years from now these two great reforms will 
stand united upon the same platform and the two great 
issues of the day, temperance and labor, will be united 
in the holy bond of wedlock.” 

Halstead looked at her as though a new thought had 
dawned upon his mind, and when he did not reply, she 
continued: “Yes, indeed, sir, it is to be; and when the 
wedding bells ring announcing that event, the morning 
will have dawned when the prohibition of the saloon may 
be written upon the statute books of America and the just 
demand of Labor will no longer be ignored.” 

Ruth was now a politician in dead earnest. She meant 
what she said. Just then a nobiVlooking woman with 
a white ribbon tied in her buttonhole ranie up and after 
a few words of consultation the two started down the street 
on business of great importance. 

The law of California distinctly reads that all saloons 


306 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


shall be closed on election day during the time that the 
polls are open. 

The brave president of the W. C. T. U., on going to 
her liinch, took a short cut to the hotel dining-room, 
where she was to meet her husband. In doing this she 
passed through a back entrance to a vacant store, and saw, 
to her astonishment, that free rum was on draught. 
Bottles were packed in ice and everybody was drinking 
to his heart’s content. The brave little woman hurried 
on until she came to a policeman upon the beat. Read- 
ing the law for his especial benefit, she informed him of 
the offense and pointed out the place of iniquity, with an 
injunction that he had better take care of the offenders. 

At lunch she ate leisurely and related the experience to 
her husband, who was a bold exponent of the temperance 
cause, and warmly sympathized with the aggressive spirit 
of his wife, encouraging her in the good fight that she 
was making. 

Leaving him at his business place, she sauntered along, 
leisurely retracing her steps to see if the officer had done his 
duty to the “blind tiger,” when, to her surprise, she found 
it still in full blast, and not only men and boys drinking 
and drunk, but children scarcely out of their knee breeches 
were indulging with their elder brothers. She at once 
sought the officer and inquired why he had not done his 
duty. He replied: “I visited the place, madam, and 
found nothing but water! Nothing but water! And 
water don’t make men drunk!” 

She turned from him with a disgusted look and went 
at once for Ruth and two others to come and help her 
enforce the law. Entering the place with her staff, the 
brave leader of the band said to the man in charge : “To 
whom does this liquor belong, sir?” 


THE SCIENCE OP GOVERNMENT. at)? 

" I do not know, madam ; some one has put it here for 
tlie use of these thirsty men.” 

The woman read the law to the gaping crowd and made 
a vigorous inquiry to know to whom the liquor belonged. 
But as no one could be found who claimed the stuff, the 
ladies took hold of the tub and carried it out upon the 
pavement, took out the bottles one after another and dis- 
patched them upon the stone pavement of the gutter. The 
crowd stood round and glared down at the dauntless four. 
They had armed themselves with pick handles before 
they came to the place with the expectation that they 
might be called upon to use them. The men were so 
completely astonished that perfect decorum was main- 
tained throughout the entire procedure. One man came 
forward and said to the white-ribboners : “I advise you 
women to go home and attend to your own business.” 
And in reply one of the courageous ones said: “Thank 
you, sir, we feel quite at home at this business, and 
especially feel it our duty as good American citizens to 
enforce the law and protect our husbands and children 
from the contamination of rum.” 

The man slunk away and was lost in the crowd. Even 
no shout of derision went up from the throats of men less 
brave than he. 

The polls now closed and the saloons that had not all 
day, in defiance of the law, been open, now opened up 
and a regular pandemonium reigned upon the streets. 
Many women sought their homes through sheer fear of the 
excited rabble. 

Men were betting large sums of money upon the possi- 
ble winning candidate — each party being positive that it 
should gain the victory. Most eagerly the honest-heart- 
ed, as well as the crafty, waited for the returns that they 
might know how the election had gone. The temperance 


308 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


people held a circle of prayer emploring God to overrule 
for good and let right rule the land. 

It was late next day before the returns came in. Then 
many crestfallen individuals saw their castles, which had 
been built upon hope, fall to the ground. It was said that 
the Democratic party had won the day. 

Early that evening Mr. Halstead called upon Ruth 
to talk over the matter of election and in a measure soothe 
his disappointed spirit by sympathizing with others who 
had also lost. He had worked for the Prohibition candi- 
date with a faith that made him sure of success. When 
the votes were counted and he found that whisky had won 
the day, his disappointment was hard to bear and a fierce 
spirit of bitterness burned within his heart. Jack Hal- 
stead was a man of strong convictions and had been a 
long time in coming to that point where he felt it was 
right to vote the Prohibition ticket. Now that he had 
come to believe it right he was a zealous exponent of the 
cause of temperance. He could not see why all good peo- 
ple in the world should not think as he did and vote to 
rid the country of its curse. His faith in man was shaken 
and he had begun to doubt that God’s hand was on the 
side of right. 

It was while this mood was upon him that he had come 
to Ruth and poured out the thoughts of his heart. He 
asked her to explain, if possible, why things were so. 
This was a moment and an opportunity she had long 
wanted. She felt that the hand of God was in the science 
of government, and to show him why things were so, she 
began: “Ever since the founding of the nations, Mr. 
Halstead, God has been manifested in government. This 
revolutionary storm that is just now so madly sweeping 
over the country, disregarding the hearts and consciences 
of men, is the Father’s own way of bringing about a prop- 


THE SCIENCE OP GOVERNMENT. 


309 


er adjustment of national affairs. Let me illustrate, for 
example. When I was a child living way out on the 
scenic banks of the Hudson, my father undertook one 
time to build an immense barn for the storing of grain. 
The women and children of the neighborhood had gath- 
ered in great numbers to witness the raising of the im- 
mense timbers that were framed together. When the first 
bent went up, which was carried to its place on spikes in 
the hands of men, the foreman stood back and shouted: 
‘Heigh, ho heigh!’ The women and children around 
stood in breathless silence, for a man went up on the bent. 
Then another bent went up, and yet another. When the 
last large bent was hoisted to its place there were men 
enough at the top to nail the purline plate solid. So, Mr. 
Halstead, from this simile take courage. We have got 
one man at the top, and when the year nineteen hundred 
comes rolling in we shall have men enough at the top to 
nail prohibition solid ; for ‘the saloon must go.’ ” 

The heavy cloud that had hovered over Jack Halstead’s 
spirit vanished, and he cast about him to find some object 
upon which he could give noisy vent to the hurrah that 
he felt within his soul. Catching up Ruth’s spool basket, 
he sent the whole collection flying around the room, while 
he drummed a loud tattoo upon the table. “Good ! good ! 
Miss Mansfield! Praise the Lord! I will be there to wel- 
come that bright day!” 

“What a noisy fellow you are!” exclaimed Ruth. “Just 
see how you have demoralized my work basket! Now, 
sir, you must help me pick these up.” 

Jack was most agreeable, and together the two soon 
restored the basket to its normal condition, while Ruth 
laughed merrily. Having regained their equilibrium, 
Ruth continued: “America is a chosen nation — a God- 
ordained people whose citizens, from first until nov% have 


SIO 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


been gathered from the great family of nations and appoint 
ed to a special mission in the world. That mission is to 
enlighten the earth and prepare its people for the righteous 
reign of the Son of God when He shall finally come 
and set up His kingdom upon the earth. In the begin- 
ning America was founded a Christian nation; but the 
fathers of our people have wandered away from the first 
principle — have forgotten God and placed their affection 
upon avarice, gold and gain. In other times when God’s 
people have forgotten Him. He has always held in reserve 
a heathen nation to come in and drive out disobedient 
Israel, but in this instance such a course would be disas- 
trous to God’s first great plan of work for America; and 
He is raising up woman to take the reins of government 
in her own hands and carry out God’s thought for the 
world through America.” 

Jack Halstead’s noble face expressed great depth of 
thought as he listened to her words, which to him seemed 
as very prophecy. Forgetting dignity as his interest in- 
tensified, he pushed a hassock close up and sat down at 
her feet while she continued : “Man was created the nat- 
ural protector of woman, hence his desire to rule his own 
house. The gentle, clinging spirit of woman reaches out 
to him for support. But man, in the majority of cases, 
has forgotten his office work on earth, and has grown 
to think that 'protect’ ought to be translated to mean 
‘oppress,’ and has steeled his heart against the wail of 
women and children. In his mad rush after the almighty 
dollar he has made himself willing to barter away human 
souls for the price of rum. Therefore, Mr. Halstead, 
woman’s ballot has become a necessity for the salvation 
of the nation, and the world depends upon this method, 
which is indeed God-ordained-.” 

“Then,” said Mr. Halstead, “your desire to see the bal- 


THE SCIENCE OF GOVERNMENT. 


311 


lot in the hand of woman is not born of the thought that 
man should not be the head of the woman?” 

“Oh, no!” was her reply. “Every good and true wom- 
an in the world desires the protection and support of some 
good man, and it is the want of that support that has 
forced woman to adopt this measure. Women must com- 
pel man by the power of the law to make the protection 
and support of his wife and family his first thought.” 

“I see a tinge upon your cheek, Mr. Halstead; do you 
blush for your own sex?” 

“Yes; I must confess you have taken away my weapons 
of warfare, and I give you my promise henceforth to vote 
for the enfranchisement of woman.” 

Ruth’s eyes filled with tears, and she said: “Then, 
sir, we are not divided upon a single issue.” 

“Just one. Miss Mansfield; you claim the right to make 
your own choice in matrimony.” 

Ruth, who was always beautiful, never looked so en- 
trancingly lovely as to-night. She reached out her hand 
and put it in his own strong and powerful grasp, and said: 
“Mr. Halstead — Jack — do you think that you could love 
and care for me through life as husband, protector and 
friend?” 

Taken by surprise, the man looked into her guileless 
face for a moment, then gathering the import of her 
words replied: “Ruth, darling, may I love you? Will 
you marry me?” 

For a moment her eyes were downcast, then pillowing 
her head upon his breast, she said: “I love you. Jack, 
and will trust my life and happiness in your keeping. Yes, 
I will be your wife.” 

What a reward for anxious waiting! Jack Halstead 
gathered the precious being in his arms and pressed her 
cherished form to his manly heart with such tenderness 


312 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


that Ruth could not doubt but that her love was returned. 
With great desire had this noble and good man longed 
for this hour to come and yet had not dared to press his 
suit nor approach the woman he so fondly loved lest he 
be rejected. Now as he felt the precious burden lean upon 
his bosom a flood of happiness and holy joy such as he had 
never dreamed he could possess came stealing into his 
heart and he blessed God for His most precious gift to 
man — a woman’s love. 









CHAPTER XXXII. 

ROBBING A BREAD-WINNER. 

The California Woman’s Christian Temperance Union 
was holdin|y a state convention. Marie Stocklaid, who 
had been a faithful worker ever since the day she found 
her mission among the poor and forsaken of society, was 
present at a reception tendered to that august body by 
the Working Woman’s Congress of the city of Oakland. 
This reception was originated by the State Superintendent 
of the Labor Department, Miss Mahitable Ann Grimshaw, 
who was zealous to bring the method of work more promi- 
nently before the state society. At the same time she 
intended to give these working girls an opportunity to 
meet with some of the refinement and culture of the 
Woman’s Christian Temperance Union. 

At a previous state convention many of the women 
had pledged themselves to earn one dollar, by manual 
labor, and give it to the state for the furtherance of the 
temperance work. 

A delightful programme, both musical and literary, 
had been prepared for the evening, after which every 
woman must tell in what manner she had earned her 
dollar. 

This was a novel procedure to Marie Stocklaid, who 
had never in all her life earned so much as a copper cent. 
She listened in wrapt attention to the various experiences 
and enjoyed the merriment with this happy company of 
ladies who had come in numbers such as to literally pack 
the spacious parlors at the well-known Chabol Home. 
Women from all parts of the state were there and had 


316 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


taken part in earning the dollars. They had cooked and 
sewed, had washed and sawed, talked and walked, prayed 
and plead, and all the various avocations open to women 
had been utilized by these busy white-ribboners, every one 
of whom most cheerfully put her dollar into the bag of 
the jolly state treasurer, who began to feel that the so- 
ciety was growing rich as she gathered in the reward for 
honest labor. 

At length one little woman, whom Marie knew to be the 
wife of a well-known capitalist, was called upon to relate 
her experience as she laid her silver piece upon the 
treasurer’s table. “I earned this dollar,” said the 
lady, as she held the precious coin between her thumb 
and finger, “in a new and novel way. I employ. Madam 
President, a widow, who has a family of little children to 
support, to clean my windows once a week. I formerly 
paid a Chinaman two dollars for doing the same work. 
But this woman is a worthy person and offered, if I would 
discharge the Chinaman, to do it for one dollar and a 
half, which I considered a very good bargain indeed. 
Well, the way I earned this dollar, I allowed my windows 
to go unpolished last week and saved the dollar which I 
otherwise should have paid for labor.” 

The brilliant little woman was about to lay her dollar 
upon the table when Mahitable Ann arose. She never 
looked so tall and angular and her nose never seemed 
quite so long as it did at that propitious moment. She 
then said: “Madam President, I do not see how we can 
accept this dollar from our sister. For, in the first place, 
she has not earned it, and in the second place she has 
degraded American labor by paying less for it than she 
would pay a heathen Chinee; and last, but not least, she 
has robbed a poor widow of the right to earn bread to put 
in the mouths of her children, and will next week put 


ROBBING A BREAD-WINNER. 


317 


Upon her the twice dirty windows to clean. I move that 
we decline to accept this money, for it is the price of 
bread.” 

The hands of a few went up in favor of refusing this 
money, while others thought it all right. Mahitable Ann 
was invited to come over for a brief interview with the 
reporter who was writing up in detail the work of these 
excellent women of the State Union. 

Marie had just been introduced to Mrs. Macfarley, an 
intelligent, bright-faced woman, whose hair was dressed 
in ringlets and who carried her head on an angle with 
the moon as she incessantly smiled and talked. Marie 
enjoyed the joke and said to the distinguished 
lady: “Good for brave Miss Grimshaw! She, like my 
friend Ruth Mansfield never fails to make a point in the 
interests of Labor. Wish Ruth could have heard her 
remarks.” 

Mrs. Macfarley manifested some astonishment and 
looked at Marie with a critical eye. At length she said: 
“Do I understand you to say, Mrs. Stocklaid, that that 
bold piece of humanity, Ruth Mansfield, is your friend?” 

“Yes,” answered Marie, “Miss Mansfield is my friend 
and I love her very much. She has a dauntless spirit, but 
is only bold for the right and I admire her very much for 
it, Mrs. Macfarley.” 

“Well,” replied that high-headed lady, “it is all owing 
to the position one holds in society. I suppose these 
working women who have tendered this reception to the 
State Union to-night do, like yourself, admire Miss Mans- 
field.” 

The lady eyed Mrs. Stocklaid most keenly, then said: 
“Let me see, what is your department in the State Union?” 

“I have not been honored with a department,” said Mrs. 
Stocklaid. “I simply have a mission and my duty is to 


318 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


work for the salvation of souls in the prison or anywhere 
among the fallen or forsaken people of the city.” 

“Dear me!” exclaimed Mrs. Macfarley, “and do you 
go into the slums of the city to look after those wretched 
people? I suppose it is all as one has been trained. You 
see, Mrs. Stocklaid, I have always moved in the highest 
and wealthiest circles of society; while you, according to 
your calling, have ever been associated with the lower 
classes. Indeed, I do not envy you, and hope you will have 
a pleasant time this evening in company with this noble 
sisterhood. Undoubtedly you will learn a great many 
things in this convention.” 

Marie bit her lip to prevent a smile which had gathered 
as she listened to this lady who held herself in high esteem, 
and appeared to be interested in her general remarks. 
Just at this moment Ruth came to the rescue and took her 
off to the dining-room, where refreshments were being 
served. As she arose to go, one of San Francisco’s love- 
liest women took her hand and said: “How do you do, 
Mrs. Stocklaid? I am very happy to see your dear face 
here with us and to know by your white ribbon that you 
are a member of the Union. I have been reading with 
pleasure of your happy conversion to the temperance 
work and bid you a thrice welcome into our midst.” 

Mrs. Stocklaid kindly acknowledged the gracious words 
of the lady, and as she and Ruth v/ent below the woman 
took the seat that Marie had left vacant. The brilliant 
Mrs. Macfarley at once opened conversation with her: 
“I see you are an acquaintance of the person who has 
just left my side, and you seemed to address her as a 
lady of some renown; do you mind telling me something 
about her?” 

“Why, no,” replied the lady, who had not yet learned 
of the bankrupt condition of the Earnestine estate, “I 


ROBBING A BREAD-WINNER. 


319 


thought everybody knew Mrs. Stocklaid, the daughter 
of the late Judge Earnestine, a man worth ten million 
dollars.” 

Mrs. Macfarley raised her hands in awe and a bright 
red spot burned on either cheek as she exclaimed: ‘‘Oh, 
is that so?” 

At that moment it was announced that the gifted 
state president would speak to the ladies, and the con- 
versation was necessarily discontinued. This delightful 
creature, Mrs. Macfarley, however, fanned herself vigor- 
ously, for she discovered that the room had suddenly 
grown too warm. 

That lady was right when she said: “You will doubt- 
less learn a great many things in this convention,” for 
when the work of the different counties in the state began 
to be reported in detail and the various superintendents 
told of the work attained through their individual meth- 
ods, Marie felt that a mine of wealth had opened up to her 
and she joyously drank from its fullness. She felt that 
the wisdom of these women in council was good. 

More than eighteen hundred years have come and gone 
since the birth and resurrection of Christ, and during that 
period never any work had been done, either religious 
or political, that had built up character in women like the 
work of the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union. 

Marie Stocklaid was not the first or only one who has 
opened her eyes with astonishment as she noted the ad- 
vance made by woman since the birth of this organization. 

Marie sat through the entire session, and each hour 
she felt her soul enlarged and her desire to enter into the 
fullness of the Master’s work greater than ever before. 
There was one feature, however, that gave her deep con- 
cern, and that was the absence of the Catholic sisterhood 
from the society. Here and there was one, to be sure, 


320 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


but to say that her own church women were identified 
with this reform would be a statement somewhat over- 
drawn. Ere the close of the convention, a strong con- 
viction had taken hold upon her and she made up her 
mind that she would approach and strive to win her own 
sect to see the beauty of the methods of the W. C. T. U. 

“Why,” she argued, “if this thing is good for the 
Protestant women, then surely it is also good for the 
Catholic, and I will lay the matter heavily before them.” 

True to her convictions, on the day following the close 
of the convention, she called upon her priest and made 
an earnest request that he recommend to the ladies of 
the church, and especially the Sisters of Charity, the ad- 
visability of their becoming identified with this great and 
'gifted organization of women. Then, like a good mis- 
sionary of the cross, she began to make a round of social 
visits, calling upon the brightest and best and asking 
them to break the chains that bound them in clanish sel- 
fishness and come out of the old rut and identify them- 
selves with the true progress of the age. She asked as 
a special favor of her father confessor that he would allow 
her to call a public meeting, for women only, in the great 
cathedral that she might appeal to them collectively to 
become identified with temperance work and take up the 
methods of the W. C. T. U. This request was most will- 
granted, with many kind offers of assistance in the 
blessed service she had undertaken. 

This was a new departure for these ladies, but God was 
leading, and where His hand moved and .marked the way 
there His workers must follow. The day appointed for 
the meeting came at last, and to the astonishment of Mrs. 
Stocklaid a large assembly of women came and listened 
to the message she had to give. She had not expected 
this lively interest in the question of temperance and was 


ROBBING A BREAD-WINNER. 


321 


wholly unprepared to speak for the edification of so 
large and intelligent a body as appeared before her. But 
as she looked into their earnest faces and weighed the 
importance of the hour, she lifted her heart to God and 
asked that He would give her a message for them, her 
beloved sisters in the Lord. While there upon her knees 
something told her to give them the simple experience 
of her life along the line of temperance and tell them why 
she had sought their assistance in the great battle of the 
right against the wrong. Then, after a few introductory 
remarks, she related her experience from the time of her 
earliest remebrance. She told them how she had sinned 
and suffered because of the use and the curse of the wine 
cup. She told how her proud spirit had kept her from 
yielding to the entreaties of her maid, what the result of 
repeated indulgence in the use of wine had been, the 
wretched life of her husband, who even at that moment 
was among the insane. She told of the loss of her fortune, 
of the blight upon her darling boy, and closed with a 
strong appeal for the women to come with her into the 
Temperance Union. She asked them to wear the white 
ribbon as an emblem of purity and fidelity to God. 

“Beloved sisters, it is not I who calls, but the Son of 
God, who is longing for the time to come when He may 
come upon the earth and set His kingdom among men. 
Come, dear ones, you are this day chosen to enter into 
the great work of temperance reform.” 

She closed her remarks, and then Father Hachilah, 
who was there, blessed the white ribbon, and said : “May 
God hasten the day when those who wear this emblem of 
purity may stand triumphant in power, having slain the 
rum fiend.” 

The total abstinence pledge was then offered and a 
great host of women knelt at the feet of tlieir father 


322 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


confessor and promised to forever abstain from the use 
of intoxicants as a beverage, while the white ribbon knot 
was tied upon their breast. 

What a day of triumph this was to Marie Stocklaid, 
who knelt humbly and rendered thanks unto Him for the 
honor and blessing bestowed upon her feeble efforts. 

How tenderly the Apostle spoke when he said: “For 
some when they had heard, did provoke; howbeit not all,” 
were followers in the true way. Thus Marie had found 
it with her sisterhood. Many were glad to come up high- 
er and imbibe the true spirit of this progressive age, 
while others preferred to lend their influence as they had 
in the past. Thus it was, is, and ever will be. 

Turning from the church, Marie was about to step upon 
the car when a poor, ignorant woman came to her and 
said: “Indade, mum, me heart is heavy for this day’s 
wurick. Whoever thought that Bridget McNinny would 
live to see the day that a Protestant snare would be set in 
me own church?” 

Marie looked pleasantly into the poor creature’s face, 
and shaking her work-stained hand, replied: “My pre- 
cious sister, this is not a snare and a delusion, as you 
think, but a call from God for our dear Catholic women 
to come out and meet the Lord in His work of saving His 
children.” 

“Oh, no,” said the woman. “Don’t ye be afther put- 
tin’ yer unhowly hand on me! Ah, sure, mum, and I’d 
like to have read your autodafe long before ye brought 
sacrilege into the house of me God. May the blessed 
Virgin protect us from the likes of ye !” 

Mrs. Stocklaid smiled pitifully back at the woman and 
said: “Poor dear sister, I suppose you are living up to , 
the highest light you are capable of receiving, but before 
you can have perfect absolution from your sins, you must 


ROBBING A BREAD-WINNER. 


323 


learn that one of the most perfect virtues in Christ is 
'charity.’ So, come and learn to love ‘man, whom you 
have seen,’ then you may claim perfection in God, ‘whom 
you have not seen,’ then you will gladly enter into the 
work that is given to the hand of woman. Go your way, 
my poor misguided sister, but remember that I am pray- 
ing that the blessed Savior of souls will enlighten your un- 
derstanding of truth and help you.” 

So saying, Mrs. Stocklaid stepped upon the car to re- 
turn to her home, and as she was carried away she heard 
the woman saying: “May the howly saints guard us 
from the snares of Satan.” As Marie was borne onward 
she prayed that “the general assembly and the church of 
the first born, which are written in Heaven, and God, the 
judge of all, and the spirit of just men made perfect, and 
the innumerable corhpany of angels” would come from the 
Heavenly Jerusalem and lend their assistance to the 
woman of earth to teach bigotry and ignorance the way 
of righteousness and truth. 




THE SECOND PRETTIEST HOME AT THE VILLA. 






CHAPTER XXXIIL 


SORROWS SANCTIFIED. 

As Marie Stocklaid took her seat upon the cable car 
to return to her home and her little son she was meditat- 
ing upon the goodness of God and thought what He had 
done for her. She had not pondered much about the 
true conversion of a soul to Christ and the meaning of a 
regenerated heart, but this day she was thinking of the 
wonderful change in her life and was asking herself to 
whom she could attribute the deep work of grace in her 
own heart. Could she give the credit to Ruth, who had 
gradually made her feel the real truths of practical Chris- 
tianity? 

No, she recognized that Ruth had been a great help 
to her in many ways, but it was not she who had put 
that wonderful peace in her heart. 

Was it the good Sisters of Charity who had so skill- 
fully taught her the doctrine? “No,” she said. “It was 
not their teachings.” 

She did not underestimate the instruction she had re- 
ceived from these sources, for she felt that the great 
fundamental truths of the Bible had been deftly drilled into 
her memory, and that they were good and all necessary 
to make her strong in the faith. But she was persuaded 
there was something in her heart that had not been put 
there by human beings. She felt it was the gift of the 
Holy Spirit. She could testify to a true conversion, and 
felt she could tell the very moment when the blessing was 
given. She knew, too, from that time her heart was 
changed. Her old hot temper, which had given herself 


326 


RUTH AND MARIE 


and her loved ones so much trouble in the past, was 
transformed into a patient spirit of zeal for the Master. 
The things that she had once loved she now disliked, and 
the things that she now disliked she once loved. To-day, 
above all other days, she felt mor-e and more a fullness 
of joy in her heart. 

Arriving at home, little Earnie came flying to the door 
for a kiss, then holding up a white messenger that the 
postman had left, he exclaimed: “Here, mamma, is a 
letter; dess its from our darlin’ papa. Turn, read it 
twick, mamma, tause I want to know when our papa’s 
turnin’ home.” 

Marie tore open the envelope and found it to contain 
two messages, one from the doctor at the asylum and the 
other from her husband. The doctor said : 

“Dear Madam: 

“Your husband. Earnest Stocklaid, has to-day been 
adjudged entirely sane, and is now ready at any time to 
return home.” 

She read the letter again, and this time to little Earnie, 
who listened with wrapt attention, his face expressing his 
joy. His happy and noisy demonstrations were most 
amusing to his mother, who laughed until the tears ran 
down her cheeks. To witness the child’s pranks as he 
gave vent to the feelings of his heart was beautiful to see. 
At last, when he had demonstrated to the heighth and 
depth of his childish capacity, he came back to his mother’s 
knee. “Now mamma, read the ozzer one and see what 
our papa has to say.” 

Marie then read aloud to him : 

“My Darling Wife and Son: 

“At last the good doctor has pronounced me cured. I 
am at liberty to come to you at any time. I could come 
alone, but ,! greatly desire that you come and take me 


SORROWS SANCTIFIED. 


327 


home with you. The outer world seems strange to me 
after so long an illness.” 

Marie had been expecting this letter, for she knew that 
her husband would soon be restored. She made up her 
mind that she would not bring him into San Francisco, 
where the very air was rife with temptation, but decided 
instead to make Ranch Earnestine her future home. She 
had often said out there Earnest will at least be spared 
the temptation of passing a saloon every time he turns. 
Here one is not safe to breathe the free air of Heaven 
even, it is so full of contamination. But to make up her 
mind to go into the country to spend the remainder of 
her life after all her years in the city was a trial. For her 
husband’s sake, though, she was willing to do anything. 
What she wanted was to save him from the curse of rum. 

For several weeks the country home had been under- 
going repairs. Everything possible was being done for 
the occupants who were coming there to make this home 
their habitation. The working people at Ranch Earn- 
estine were delighted beyond measure at the prospect of 
having their benefactress come and dwell in their midst. 

Gretchen was overjoyed. She hoped that under the 
benign influence of Mrs. Stocklaid a better class of morals 
could be instilled into the homes of the community and 
much good accomplished among the young. 

Of late Marie had seen but little of Ruth. Most of the 
time she was out of the city and laboring in the various 
states of the Pacific slope. Her influence was great and 
her services in growing demand. Now, though that 
Marie had decided to leave the city and take Mr. Stock- 
laid direct to the ranch instead of bringing him to San 
Francisco, she had a desire to see the girl and tell her all 
about her plans. 


328 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


She knew that Ruth was now at home, so she dis- 
patched Jeanetta with a hastily written note inviting Ruth 
to come and spend the evening with her. On the mor- 
row she was going to take her departure. 

As yet Aunt Langsford was entirely ignorant of her 
plans for the future. She did not know whether the dear 
old lady, who was growing feeble, would like to spend 
the rest of her days in a country home. She dreaded 
to mention the fact to her, but during Jeanetta’s absence 
she went to her room and said : “Aunt Emile, something 
new has come to pass in the world and I have come to 
tell you all about it; would you like to hear?” 

“Yes, dearie, if it is something pleasant. But some- 
how in the last few years of your life the new things that 
you have had to tell have always been the sorrowful 
things and I shrink from hearing them.” 

Marie patted the dear old cheek that was not so round 
as it was fifteen years before and said: “But this. Aunt 
Langsford, is one of the pleasant things that you will be 
glad to know. Earnest has entirely recovered his mind 
and is coming home to see us again.” 

Marie waited for the old lady to express her joy, but 
when she did not reply her niece said; “Why, auntie, 
you don’t act a bit glad. I thought you would be the 
happiest one of us all. How is it that you do not rejoice? 
You always liked Earnest.” 

“So I did, Marie, and I like him still, but my fear of 
these dreadful saloons in San Francisco and the tempta- 
tions to which he will be exposed make me wish him to 
remain in the asylum. He is safe there and you can be 
happy in his security.” 

“Viewing it from that standpoint. Aunt Langsford, 
you are quite right, but you know we are not obliged to 


SORROWS SANCTIFIED. 


329 


remain in San Francisco. I have decided to go to Ranch 
Earnestine to spend the rest of my days with my husband, 
and v.'e will make our departure to-morrow.” 

Aunt Langsford opened her eyes in astonishment. 

“Well, Marie, I should think that something new under 
the sun had come to pass! And so you are to leave the 
city?” 

‘Wes, Aunt Emile; will you accompany us? Do you 
think you could be happy in the country?” 

“Yes, Marie, anywhere, only so I may rest under the 
influence of your sweet spirit. Have you never thought, 
Marie, of what a change has come over you in these 
last years? That old hot temper of yours that used to 
be such a horror to us all, what has become of it, dearie? 
You are so sweet now all the day.” 

Marie embraced the affectionate old lady and replied: 
“I have it still, Aunt Langsford, only the spirit of the 
Lord now holds sway in my heart. I have been converted 
and the old hot temper has been transformed into a burn- 
ing spirit of zeal to be used in His own special service. 
The temper is sanctified, that is all.” 

Then taking the wrinkled old hand in her own, she 
continued: “Do you know. Aunt Langsford, since the 
Lord has given me a little child all my own to train, I 
have found out what was wrong with his mother when 
she was a little girl? It was a mother’s love that could 
have healed my naughty spirit. Earnie would be naughty, 
too, only for my love. I am so glad God gave me that 
little boy.” 

“All but his blemishes, Marie.” 

“No, Aunt Langsford, I would have him just as he 
is for his mother’s sake; but for the boy’s sake I would 
that his body were perfect. God knew best when He 
made him so. Yes, He knew what would be the best 


330 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


discipline for my son. At first my spirit rebelled against 
what seemed to be a cruel hand of fate, but in these last 
years I have grown to think that things don’t come by 
chance. God has a purpose in all that He does, and has 
He not said: ‘The wrath of God shall be made to praise 
God?’ Earnie’s deformity has been my greatest cross. 
It was the wrath of man that caused God to make him 
so, and one day while hugging that cross to my bosom 
I found it to be a crown. Sorrow sanctified. Aunt Emile, 
is the reward of perfect love.” 

At that moment Jeanetta returned, bringing Earnie 
with his “Auntie Ruth.” Marie arose to greet them and 
was struck with something in Ruth’s face that she had 
never seen before. 

Kissing her ruby lips, she led her away to her own 
room, and looking up into her tell-tale eyes, said: “Ruth, 
dear, what has happened to you? I see a mellowness in 
your soul that has never rested upon you before. What 
is it that has made your spirit bloom out in such perfec- 
tion?” 

Ruth took her friend’s sweet face between her hands, 
and looking into the liquid depths of her tender blue eyes, 
said: “Can’t you guess, Marie?” 

Mrs. Stocklaid caught the idealistic devotion written 
in the girl’s face and replied: “Yes, dear, it is love! 
Then, after a moment, as Ruth did not reply, Marie no- 
ticed her effusive spirit, and repeated: “Ruth, it is true? 
Have you finally made that proposal of marriage and 
been accepted?” 

Ruth blushed crimson and replied: “Yes, Marie, and 
the dearest man beneath the sun has promised to love, 
protect and ‘obey me’ as long as we two shall live. The 
day is not far distant when I shall become the wife of 
Jack Halstead.” 


SORROWS SANCTIFIED. 


331 


Marie gathered her to her bosom and joyously ex- 
claimed: “You precious girl! So dear old Jack is to be 
the happy man! How glad I am! He and I, Ruth, were 
playmates together, and among all the men in the world 
he would have been my choice for you as a husband. 

“So your troth is plighted. You are to become a wife? 
Well, Ruth dear, may God bless and give you ‘a white life 
for two,’ and may your cup be filled to overflowing with 
that perfect bliss which you deserve to enjoy!” 

Then came Earnie and climbed into Ruth’s lap and 
told her the glad news of his papa’s recovery. His baby 
eyes expressed all the joy he felt when he said: “Auntie 
Ruth, just fink how glad I will be to have a fazzer like 
ozzer boys!” 

Marie broke the news of their intended departure on 
the morrow and told how she had made up her mind 
to bid farewell to the city. How she had decided they 
should spend the rest of their days sojourning at Ranch 
Earnestine. 

Ruth thought her friend wise and commended her spirit 
of sacrifice for the sake of her husband and boy. 

Later on Jack came for Ruth and spent the evening 
with the ladies to add his approval to the course she was 
pursuing. He said to Marie: “You will find a delight- 
ful home at Ranch Earnestine, and the people there are 
much improved in morals since it has been a temperance 
community.” 

How truly God’s hand doth lead His own, and how 
easv the pathway that has first had God’s approval of its 
-'^urse! Marie felt that she was doing right; and though 
< cost her a great sacrifice, yet she counted it all joy to be 
led in the way of duty for Earnest’s sake. She had never 
been brought into concourse with the plain country people, 
and knew nothing of that society, or what she might do 


332 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


to make them better or happier, yet she had already set 
in order a train of thoughts which, when developed, 
would make her loved among them. 

Unfolding her plans to Ruth and Mr. Halstead, she 
told how she hoped to make herself a leader and a power 
for poor among them. She also talked of her future with 
Earnest and expressed a desire that he might become a 
Christian and through the power of Jesus be saved, not 
only from drink, but from his sins. 

They knelt in prayer, while all three earnestly prayed 
for the salvation of a soul. Arising from their knees, 
Marie quoted from Matthew: “If two of you shall agree 
on earth as touching anything that they shall -ask, it shall 
be done for them of my Father which is in Heaven.” 

“Thank God!” said she, “that we are agreed in our 
desire for his soul. So let us have faith to claim this 
promise, and Earnest Stocklaid, my beloved husband, 
shall indeed find his Redeemer.” 

That evening was very profitably spent, and when, at 
a late hour, they said good-night, Marie gave them a press- 
ing invitation to pay her ^n early visit at her country 
place and enjoy the good things of the land. 

Jack pressed her hand at parting, and with a twinkle 
of merriment at the memory of by-gones, replied: “Yes, 
the fruit and such ills; but no wine at the Ranch 
Eamestine.” 





/ 


\ 



VILLA PARK. 







CHAPTER XXXIV. 

THE DRUNKARD REDEEMED. 

Leaving Marie as she retired to her peaceful couch 
full of faith and resting on the promises of God, we will 
look in upon Earnest Stocklaid as he is spending his last 
evening at the asylum. 

Retiring from the music room, where one of the in- 
mates had sung, over and over again, 

“Jesus lover of my soul, let me to Thy bosom fly, 

While the nearer waters roll, while the tempest still is nigh; 

Hide, me, oh, my Savior, hide, till the storm of life is past, 

Safe into the haven guide, oh, receive my soul at last,” 

It was the first time in Earnest Stocklaid’s life that he 
had ever felt a drawing toward God or a desire for His 
sheltering love. As he sat there by his bedside that night 
he was most intensely drawn toward the future. What 
the trouble in his heart was he could not tell. He seemed 
to see the wild eyes of the maniac as she sang, and the 
great mellowness that overspread her countenance when 
she came to the words : 

“Plenteous grace with Thee is found, grace to cover all my sins.” 

He paused with downcast eyes and thought, “What 
were his sins? He again asked himself the question, “Had 
he ever committed a sin? Done anything for which he 
needed the covering of grace?” He began to look back 
over his life and to recount his misdeeds. The innocency 
of his childhood came back like a far-away dream. He 
saw himself once more a little boy kneeling by his mother’s 
knee saying the childish prayer she had taught him. By 
and by as memory’#^ wheel turned round he was brought 


336 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


face to face with his first mistake. He saw it clearly now 
and knew that it was sin. Then he came down the years 
of his life until his misdeeds were piled up mountain 
high before him. He thought how he was, on the mor- 
row, to go out again into the world. He knew tempta- 
tions would meet him on every side. Would he 
have power enough to resist them? It was an earnest 
question that Earnest Stocklaid was asking himself, and 
he could not answer. 

“Other refuge have I none,” came like a wearied strain 
as the maniac still sang. Earnest Stocklaid fell upon his 
face and repeated from out the depths of his heart: “Other 
refuge have I none!” 

Then came the desire for salvation and a penitent’s 
plea for God’s grace to cover all his sins. 

On his knees he waited and plead for salvation. 

“Thou, oh Christ, art all I want,” came like the plead- 
ing of his own soul from the woman’s lips. He heard 
the warden come and lead her, the singer, the maniac, 
away to her room. Still he knelt there before his bed 
pleading and waiting for God’s answer. At last the an- 
swer came and he arose from his knees. He felt he was 
washed by the Lamb, and he shouted: “Blessed be the 
name of the Lord who is able to save to the uttermost.” 

For a long time that night he lay upon his bed and 
thought. His thoughts went out in quest of his wife 
and child, whom he knew were to meet him on the mor- 
row — the two who had been cruelly wronged. He won- 
dered what he could do to redeem himself in their sight. 
Tenderly he now thought of them. His sins looked 
black when he remembered how cruel and ungrateful 
he had been for their tender, affectionate love, generously 
and freely lavished upon him. 

His mind reverted to the time when he had sought 


THE DRUNKARD REDEEMED. 


337 


Marie’s'hand in marriage; when he had promised to love 
her better than the wine cup if she would consent to be- 
come his wife. How illy he had kept that promise! And 
how sorry he was to-night! 

He bowed his head in his hand and reflected, while the 
perspiration came out in great beads on his forehead. 
Finally he said, as though moved by a spirit of deep com- 
miseration for them: “Darling! My darlings! How 
cruel I have been!” He paused for a moment and then 
repeated it to himself. He could not remember that he 
had ever called his precious little son “darling” before. He 
winced as the thought sent a keen stab into his heart. 
Then calling himself a brute, he resolved that the future 
should make amends for his past indifference and neglect 
of his child. 

How wonderfully the great spirit of the man was awak- 
ing from his lethargy! How revolting the misdeeds of 
his past now appeared to him ! He longed for the break 
of day when he might look for their arrival and make 
amends. He could scarcely sleep or bide the time as the 
hours crept slowly on to day. 

At last the morning broke, as all mornings will, and 
Earnest Stocklaid, with all the eagerness of a young 
lover, arose and began to prepare for the meeting with 
his noble wife and son. Dressing himself with care, he 
paced up and down the room in reverent, holy thought 
and meditated upon his new-found bliss. He even 
counted the hours until the arrival of the train. All this 
time new resolves were being formed in his mind which 
would tend to make him all that his adorable wife and 
child could ask or hope for. 

He felt that he had said “Good-bye” to the saloon and 
all its accompaniments forever. His face glowed with 
a renewed hope and vigor, and he longed to begin to 


338 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


show the world that he was indeed a man worthy the 
honor of the name. 

At last the hour came and with it the train and dear 
ones. His door was thrown open and the glad faces of 
his loved ones appeared. The unusual excitement had 
given to Marie’s cheek the blush of maidenhood, and 
Earnie’s eyes sparkled with the gladness of childhood. 
The two had never looked so beautiful before to the 
husband and father and his heart gave a bound of exult- 
ant joy. That moment was a supreme one to Earnest 
Stocklaid and at the same time consecrated to God. 

Marie reached out her hands to him she loved and as 
she looked into his countenance she paused as though 
beholding a Heavenly vision. His face, which of late 
looked stolid and expressionless, had now taken upon it 
a cultured look and beamed with a light which never 
comes to one’s countenance except by the light of the 
Holy Spirit. For a moment their eyes drank from the 
depth of new-made love, then Marie buried her face in 
her husband’s bosom and sobbed from the fullness of joy. 
Unconsciously her lips were pressed to his and the sweet- 
est bliss of their married life was experienced at that 
moment. ^‘Darling! darling husband!” she murmured, 
‘T am glad you are well again and still more glad to be- 
hold the same old love look upon your face that was there 
so long ago. It is even much more beautiful. What is 
it, my husband, that has wrought such a wonderful change 
and made you lovely as you are?” 

“It is Christ, my wife; it is a Savior’s love. I am re- 
deemed by His precious blood!” 

Glad tears streamed down Marie’s cheeks like rain, and 
amidst the showers she cried: “I am paid for all my 
suflfering.’' 

Earnie, too, was weeping for joy as he was nestled 


THE DRUNKARD REDEEMED. 33i> 

closely in his papa’s bosom, drinking in the glad kisses 
of a father’s tender love. At last the little fellow clasped 
his father’s face between both his baby hands and ex- 
claimed: “Darlin’ papa, it’s all tause mamma and I 
prayed Dod to make you a Tristian.” 

Pressing both his wife and child to his bosom, he said : 
“Beloved, the clouds have vanished and now, God being 
my helper, I can prove to you that I can be a husband 
and father in every true sense of the word.” 

Marie’s face shone with the joy which she felt within 
her soul, and a sweeter and more perfect trust than she 
had ever known before for her husband came into her 
heart and she was indeed blessed of Heaven. 

Announcing to Mr. Stocklaid that the train would 
leave in one-half hour, arrangements were made for their 
speedy departure. Then the family went forth filled with 
joy. Every cloud seemed to have vanished from their 
horizon of life, and Marie felt that Heaven had come down 
to meet her on the way. 

They had been for some time seated in the train before 
it dawned upon the mind of Earnest that they were not 
headed toward San Francisco. When the thought came 
to him he turned to his wife with a look of surprise and 
said : “Why, darling, we are going away from instead of 
to San Francisco. We have taken the wrong train.” 

“No, husband, we are not on the wrong train. Our 
destination is not San Francisco. We are going home.” 

Earnest opened his eyes with wonderment and though 
he spoke not a word, yet his wife understood the ques- 
tioning look and she smilingly made answer: “We are 
going to Ranch Earnestine, which is (to be our future 
home.” 

For a moment a look of gladness diffused his face and 
he exclaimed: “Thank God, Marie, that I shall be thus 


m 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


far removed from temptation Then, as if remernbering 
that he had a mightier power than himself to rely upon 
for support and to strengthen him, he continued: “But, 
darling, it matters not where my lines shall be cast. 
Through Christ, who strengthened! me, I shall be able to 
resist any and all temptations which may arise before me 
in the future.” 

Ere long the train drew into the statior. and the trio 
stepped out upon the platform, to be greeted by a host 
of people who had come to welcome them to their own 
villa. Gretchen was there with the chief women, who 
were fondly expressing their joy at having one so noble 
and to them so truly great as Mrs. Stocklaid come to 
reside in their midst with her sweet graces and excellent 
character. A few, however, were tardy to speak their 
welcome, because it had been whispered about that she 
was a Catholic. Some judged that she would be re- 
ticent and would be but little help in lines of Christian 
work. But in this they were to be happily disappointed, 
for, from the day of her arrival at Ranch Earnestine, 
Marie Stocklaid began to work in very truth for the good 
and the betterment of the people round about her villa. 

Stepping into the carriage that stood in waiting, they 
were driven at once to their home, which was situated 
among the orchards that were laden with choice and 
luscious fruit. When once sheltered beneath its roof, 
Marie, leaning upon the arm of her husband, went over the 
House to note the improvements and to decide upon her 
own private apartments. This was not hard to do, for 
one of the most sunny rooms in the house was chosen. 
Opening out of it was a dear little apartment, a snuggery 
for little Earnest Earnestine. 

They now began to feel at home, and were looking 
forward to the arrival on the morrow of Aunt Langsford 


THE DRUNKARD REDEEMED. 


341 


and Jeanetta. They tarried behind to finish up the work 
which Marie had not had time to look after before her 
departure. Now the wife and mother at last sat down 
to think of her multiplied blessings and of God’s wonder- 
ful goodness to her — chief among them was her husband’s 
restoration to her, not only sound in mind, but thorough- 
ly redeemed from drink, a noble Christian man. 

When she thought what it meant for her future and the 
future of her child she wept tears of joy and thanked God, 
who was and had been to her a help in all the troubles of 
life. There upon her knees she renewed her vows to 
Him and promised that her life and means and all that 
she had should be devoted to His service. 

There and then the family altar was erected and father, 
mother and child bowed together and in earnest supplica- 
tion consecrated their lives to the service of God and His 
blessed work of reform upon the earth. 

Ah, happiness! How sweet thou art when pressed to a 
heart that hath known thee! 

Marie took the new-found happiness that had now 
been so sweetly poured into her life and tenderly entwin- 
ing it into the experience of the past, arose from her knees, 
as a tree laden with fruit, to bless the world in which she 
lived. 



“I WAS THINKING OP WOMAN’S MiSST('>N IN THE 
WORLD TO COME.’ 




CHAPTER XX-XV. 


LOOKING INTO THE FUTURE. 

For some days Ruth Mansfield had been weighing her 
life’s work and considering the feasibility of continuing 
her efforts for humanity. She had been asking herself if 
it paid to be a public reformer. 

She was happy in her calling and loved humanity bet- 
ter than she knew how to love her God. But just at this 
time she was looking back over her record, and in many 
things she had been criticising some of her most faithful 
endeavors and accusing herself of having failed to do her 
best. 

The real truth of the matter was she was not quite sat- 
isfied with her life and work, for she felt that the time 
was an auspicious one in the world’s history and that the 
opportunities and avenues open for women were better 
than the world had ever before known, and she did not 
wish to miss her good chance of making the most out of 
her life and ability to do good. She had a strong desire 
to do something which would be a help to other women 
who were to come after her, but the kaleidoscopic view 
that she was now taking of national affairs as she stood 
with her eye to the governmental lens, made her hesitate 
to pursue her regular course and to cry unto the Lord 
for wisdom to know which way to turn or where to apply 
for strength. 

Church and state and moral reform had become so 
thoroughly mixed up with national affairs that she felt 
that it would take a sager counselor than Solomon to pick 
out the tangled ends of public questions or to separate 


344 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


the social and political conglomeration. But for all this 
Ruth did not mean to let go of the work, and she steadily 
pushed ahead where duty called her with her aspirations 
set for the highest public good. 

She weighed all questions with gravity and waited the 
leading of the Spirit to guide her into the light. The 
Labor reform she could see, as with prophetic eye,, would 
in God’s set time work out its own proper adjustment; 
and although Labor was mad and the seething pot of 
human woe at boiling heat, yet she could see that the 
true leaders were men of great moral integrity and that 
the continual uprising on the part of labor organizations 
would be controlled and held in obedience to the public 
will. 

She trusted that the strong, omnipotent hand of God 
would steady the ship of state and land it safely by 
and by. 

Of late she had some grave thoughts about the en- 
franchisement of women, and what woman’s liberation 
would mean for the coming generations. That woman 
was to have the ballot she had not a doubt; for already 
she could see prejudice breaking away and men were 
becoming the earnest champion of woman suf¥rage. 

She felt that the ballot in the hand of woman would 
mark a great epoch in the world’s history, but she saw 
that side by side with the greater privileges it would af- 
ford to the women of America, would stand the opportuni- 
ty for greater calamities in the direction of woman’s de- 
generacy than the world ever saw before. 

She questioned herself to know if she had any part 
to play on the stage of life in order that she might reveal 
to woman the weak point in case she took the ballot in 
the centuries which were yet unwritten. 

The ballot in the hand of man had proven to be unto 


LOOKING INTO THE FUTURE. 


345 


him a snare and a delusion. Would woman’s lust for 
office and greed for power be equal to that of her brothers? 

Surely it was a question of great moment to the moth- 
erhood of a nation, and the sooner the sequel to woman 
in politics be written, the easier it would be to rectify the 
wrong, if there should be wrong, and teach her how to 
steer clear of the breakers that might sink her political 
ship in a sea of despair. Ruth Mansfield could see a 
great eminence for the coming woman if she were to live 
and work out God’s plan of government for the nations^ 
and to use the ballot for the betterment of society instead 
of, as man had done, to satisfy his personal greed for 
power. 

She could see, as it appeared to her, the dividing line 
of the centuries and believed that as time rolled on and 
the last half of the earth’s period was being spread out 
as a scroll that woman was either to rise in greater power 
and by her efforts purify the world from vice, or else she 
would go down to more awful depths of shame than man 
had ever done. 

Which would it be? She could not tell. But faith 
in her own sex made her hope for the better and she con- 
fidently believed that woman’s ballot would prepare the 
way for the righteous reign of the Kingdom of the Lord. 

As she sat there that day with her spirit in the world 
of thought, longing for the wisdom for which she so 
reverently prayed, it seemed to her that she could see into 
futurity and there behold woman as she stood in this 
terrestial sphere clasping hands with the angels, co-operat- 
ing with God in His great plan of work for the earth. 

Wonderful futurity! What does it not hold in store 
for woman? But side by side with this vision of future 
greatness, stood the opportunity for woman to fall into 
greater darkness than she ever yet has known. How could 


346 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


she warn her of the danger ahead, and what arguments 
could she use to cause her to think and inquire the way 
before she took a leap into freedom? What method could 
be adopted to promote her into the divine purity and 
God-like wisdom that would hold and maintain her at 
all times in the right? 

Ruth Mansfield’s brain was a wise one, but as she 
looked out in advance of the present time she felt an in- 
ability to answer her own questions or to mark the way 
for others to follow. 

She sat lost in deep reverie, with a most intense ex- 
pression upon her face as she climbed higher and higher 
into her mysterious soul promptings, when her thoughts 
paused and made her return to a consciousness of her 
whereabouts. She was apprised of the fact that a visitor 
had entered her room and stood waiting for recognition. 
It was her affianced husband, Mr. Jack Halstead. 

Arising, she gave him her hand and he said: “What 
grave problem is my little philosopher trying to solve this 
morning? From the expression of her face I would think 
that it belonged to Greek and ancient lore.” 

Ruth smiled pleasantly and replied: “Ah, no; it was 
not relating to the last half of the earth’s period, but of 
the future six thousand years. I was just trying to see 
what is to be woman’s mission to the world in the time 
to come. Can you help me to solve so great a problem?” 

Leading her to a settee and taking his seat by her side, 
he said: “Yes, dear Ruth, I can help you to solve the 
problem of at least one woman’s mission in the world. I 
have come to urge you to begin her work at once.” 

Ruth looked quickly up into his face as he continued: 
“Ruth, I have come to ask you to name the day when I 
may claim you for my bride.” 

As he saw the expression of her countenance which 


LOOKING INTO THE FUTURE, 


347 


seemed to plead for him to wait, he continued: “Oh, 
don’t ask me to longer wait. I have waited now so long. 
Won’t you name the day?” 

Ruth whispered: “You may name the day. Jack, and 
I will try to fulfill that part of my mission in the world 
of making one man happy.” 

He said : “Then to-morrow shall be our wedding day.” 

Ruth was greatly surprised at the early date he had set 
for the marriage, but having given her permission, she 
reluctantly consented and began at once to make speedy 
preparations for the event. On the following day a little 
company of people were assembled in the church of her 
choice to witness the nuptial vows of brave, dauntless 
Ruth Mansfield and that noble specimen of manhood. 
Jack Halstead. 

-^s they knelt just inside the chancel rail, Ruth could 
hear the beating of her own heart, and the moment was 
made sacred with fervent petitions to God. When the 
minister prayed that the marriage vow might be recorded 
in Heaven a fervent amen went up from her heart and 
she mentally petitioned Heaven to bless the plighted troth 
they were making. 

When the ceremony was ended they took their seats 
in the carriage that stood in waiting at the door. The 
wedding party were driven quickly away in the direction 
of Nob Hill, a place where Ruth had seldom been since 
that eventful morning so long ago when she went to 
bring Marie from the mansion to a cottage. 

The carriage drew up before a pretentious-looking 
house with beautiful grounds, not so handsome and val- 
uable as the Palace Earnestine had been, but good enough 
to satisfy the heart of the' wife of Jack Halstead. 

As they entered a vision of loveliness met the eyes of 
the bride such as she had seldom seen. The warm, soft tints 


348 


RUTH AND MARIE, 


of the walls and furniture, the beautiful flowers making 
the air heavy with their fragrance, the warbling of a canary 
bird, and the rosy glow of an open fire that crackled in 
the grate, and the strong, overmastering love of him who 
had led her into this delightful place, all freighted the 
moment with joy, and brought happy tears of gratitude. 
They glistened in her eyes like dewdrops and she ex- 
pressed her glad surprise at being ushered into this en- 
chanted spot. 

Her husband led her to a seat and tenderly bent above 
her as he whispered: “Welcome home, my darling wife!” 
Then kissing a pearly teardrop from each cheek, he 
slipped a paper into her hand, saying as he did so: “This 
is my wedding present to the most beautiful woman in 
all the world to me.” 

Ruth unfolded the paper and found it to be a deed to 
the lovely home she had just entered, and Jack smiled and 
said: “I am not a rich man, dear, but in what I have 
you to-day have been made an equal partner with me.” 

Home, sweet home! How precious that word sounds 
to one who has been tossed about like a skiff upon the 
mad billows of the sea! The word had an enchanted 
sound to the ear of Ruth Halstead and she repeated it 
over and over again to herself. 

Home! Surely there is no place so dear this side of 
that heavenly mansion. Anchored at last with the strong 
arm of a truly good man about her! What a mellow 
radiance his noble love had thrown around her life ! The 
world did not seem half so stern and cold as it had before, 
and the jagged steel that had so rasped her soul seemed 
to have fled at the approach of love. This noble woman 
was at last ready to begin a tenderer work for humanity 
than she could have done before it came. 


LOOKING INTO THE FUTURE, 


349 


Ah, love! Thou art the balm that can make any soul 
truly great! 

Not to have known thee is to have suffered an irre- 
trievable loss, for the soul that is void of love, like the 
dwarfed tree, can not bear fruit to God and live. 



SPORTS AT THE VILLA. 


PARK 



CHAPTER XXXVL 


WOMAN’S MINISTRY. 

On the following Sabbath day, after the arrival of the 
party at Ranch Earnestine, a company of people could 
haye been found assembled in the pleasant parlors of 
Mrs. Stocklaid’s home for public worship. 

Jew and Gentile, Catholic and Protestant, sat in holy 
reverencp during the hour in which that blessed woman 
was declaring the unsearchable riches of Christ. 

The old-time Book lay open before her and none could 
doubt that her every utterance was inspired by the Holy 
Spirit. Creed was lost sight of, and the one Law Giver, 
the one Savior, was held up as the father and redeemer 
of all people. 

What a happy day this was to the villagers, who hitherto 
had not known what it was to attend a house of worship, 
but now all were inspired to better things and to higher 
and nobler aims in life. 

This was the first work of real ministry of the gospel 
that Mrs. Stocklaid had undertaken, for heretofore her 
efforts had been of the nature of an evangelist. Seeing 
her duty plain, she had set about the work of the ministry 
with a confidence which is only known to those who 
make a careful walk with God. From Sabbath to Sab- 
bath, as the work grew and her audience increased, the 
spacious parlors became too small to accommodate the 
people, and a delightful little chapel was erected in one 
of the most beautiful groves at the villa, overlooking the 
sea. It became known to all men that the once rich and 
aristocratic Mrs. Stocklaid of the city had become one 


352 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


With her people and was indeed a servant of all as she 
humbly labored in Christ for the salvation of souls. 

From time to time her father confessor would come 
and dispense the ceremonies of his faith, while on the other 
hand the Protestant brethren were welcomed as they came 
with the glad messages of salvation to the world. 

Blessed woman! Surely the words of the prophet 
Isaiah were fulfilled where he says: “When thou passeth 
through the waters I will be with thee; and through the 
rivers, they shall not overflow thee; when thou walkest 
through the fire thou shall not be burnt, neither shall the 
flames kindle upon thee. For I am the Lord, thy God, 
the Holy One of Israel, thy Savior.” 

It was a self-evident fact that Christianity had saved 
that willful and stubborn soul, and the fires and flood had 
so melted and purified her heart that it was indeed a sure 
resting-place. Marie, in meditating upon her life and 
all its accompaniments, recognized Ruth as her greatest 
spiritual benefactress — the good angel of her life. But 
unto God, the author and finisher of her life, she rendered 
her accounts and realized that only through him was she 
blessed. As she sits to-day underneath the stained-glass 
window which throws a tinted glow over the different 
objects in the room, giving mellow radiance, she is made 
to feel that Heaven is not far distant. 

Looking down upon the surrounding grounds as beau; 
tiful nature stretches out before it makes her heart swell 
with exultant joy and she recounts the mercies of God to 
herself and adored husband. 

The flowers that were blooming in luxuriant profusion 
seemed to speak of triumph in God, and the air, heavy 
with the fragrance of orange blossoms, seemed but the 
essence of life. She could see the trees laden with grow* 
ing fruit and the table-grape vineyard busily unfolding 


WOMAN’S MINISTRY. 


353 


beneath the warm rays of the beautiful sun. She could 
see the bottles of unfermented wine, and to her they 
seemed more delicious than the fermented juice of the 
grape. Further on she saw the broad fields of waving 
grain, and they gave great promise of a bountiful harvest. 
Thousands upon thousands of acres stretched out before 
her. Away to the east the mirage appeared to her en- 
tranced vision like a quiet lake of water, while yet beyond 
the whole range of the Sierra Nevada Mountains were 
in full view, clothed in winter and summer dress of ice 
and snow. 

Coming back she looked down upon her own beautiful 
Ranch Earnestine. Just there in the meadow the cows 
were grazing with that peaceful tranquillity which knows 
no thought but security and rest. A meadow lark came 
and lifted its beak heavenward and sang a song of joy, 
while the young hopped timidly about, trying their new- 
born strength. 

The laborers were tilling the soil and displaying won- 
derful skill as they rode the wheel plow, guiding a six- 
horse team to turn an even furrow. Back of it all lay the 
grand old ocean, with its wild, turbulent waves beating 
in angry tumult upon the shore as if to show disdain for 
the peaceful repose that lay like a dream over all nature. 
Over and above it all hung the clear blue sky of Heaven's 
vaulted dome like a circlet of love shining alike upon the 
just and upon the unjust of earth. 

The husband was now driving down the avenue be- 
tween the even rows of shade trees, getting home in time 
for the noonday lunch. As the bell rang Marie arose and 
went down to the dining-room to meet her husband and 
talk of her pleasant morning in the secret presence of her 
God. 

The white ribbon knot is tied in her dress. There can 


354 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


also be seen a dainty little bow in the buttonhole of her 
husband’s coat. Her boy, grown taller and more lovely 
now, at his mother’s instigation bows his head and says 
grace before the meal, which is partaken of by a pleasant 
company of ladies and gentlemen. 

Such is the life of the once petted and spoiled heiress of 
the Earnestine estate, who is converted from the evil of 
her ways to a life of righteousness. 

As the little company lingered around the board the 
theme of their conversation is the living issues of the 
day and the wonderful advancement of the temperance 
reform. 

Earnest Stocklaid is in favor of the prohibition of the 
liquor traffic and entreats his comrades to vote on the 
side of right. He is now working for the protection of 
the home. 

“How mysterious are the ways of the Lord, and His 
judgments past finding out!” God led the children of 
Israel out of bondage into the light of security and peace, 
and so will He lead on the temperance reform and settle 
the Labor question ; and ere long the bell of the centuries 
will ring out the glad news that the saloon has departed. 



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MRS. STOCKLAID AT THE AGE OF FORTY. 







CHAPTER XXXVIL 


WAITING ON THE WATCH TOWER. 

It is the last night of the old year and for friendship's 
sake a reunion is being held at the beautiful residence of 
Mr. and Mrs. Halstead. It is a pleasant company which 
is gathered around the fireside. Every one seems to be 
in his happiest mood. Earnest and Mrs. Stocklaid are 
present. 

The central figure of the group is Ruth, with baby 
Viola upon her knee. The brown curls and Heavenly 
blue yes are the exact counterpart of the father, who 
watches the mother and child with that perfect adoration 
born only of true love. 

Ruth is talking to her guests and seems like a woman 
who lives far in advance of the age. 

A careful’review of her life’s work is being made to her 
auditors in order that she may more clearly show them 
the wonderful age of progression in which they were liv- 
ing. Speaking of the errors of humanity and the mis- 
takes of society, she pointed to the never-failing hand of 
God, who from first to last has led His people forward in 
the battles of life. She then speaks of the future. Her 
words sound very prophetic when she says: “But the 
end is not yet, for many trials are to come to America 
ere the dove of peace will again settle down upon our 
waters. The labor question is like the smothered flames 
of Mount Vesuvius — ready to burst forth at any moment 
— and many decades will come and go before the labor 
question will be settled with Capital. Blood must flow 
and great devastation will come upon the land before 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


sr.s 


monopolists will accede to the principles and demands 
of the people. Terrible quaking will be felt in society, 
for it yet must be greatly moved for Labor’s sake. Never 
until the working people shall become educated into true 
American ideas will the hot spirit of anarchy die out and 
a higher civilization appear. The rum power will call for 
greater resistance on the part of the temperance people 
and many reformers will fall by the assassin’s hand ere 
the time shall come when the government will abolish 
the accursed traffic. But the saloon must go; for just 
beyond this period into nineteen hundred we see women, 
grand, strong and unconquerable, standing like inter- 
ceding angels of mercy, casting the white-winged ballots 
in defense of God, our country and the home. America 
is a nation that was born to live, and though women must 
leave their homes and come out before the world in behalf 
of work, the end shall yet be accomplished.” 

Marie is seen to arise and come close to the side of 
Ruth. An eager glow beams from her eye, and she says : 
“Mrs. Halstead, your words seem as truly prophetic as 
those of the wise men of old, and I rejoice in the day that 
you and I live and am glad that we have had- a little part 
in this work that is given woman to do. To live in this 
present age and see the nation revolutionized and the 
drink traffic cast aside, to see woman rising up to suppress 
secret vices and to make better laws for the protection of 
women and children, and to feel that we have invested 
our lives in these great moral issues, gives the holiest 
joy to me that can be experienced by any on earth. But, 
dear Ruth, who shall be able to abide the trials of which 
you prophesy? Will the women of to-day survive the 
coming revolutionary struggles?” 

Ruth smiled as though her soul were on fire to stand 
in the fiercest of the battle as she replied: “You and I, 


WAITING ON THE WATCH TOWER. 


359 


Marie, will continue to fight and shall win some victories 
while we yet live, but we shall grow old and our weary 
bodies will be laid to rest in the grave long years before 
this warfare is ended. But, my sister, our work will not 
cease here, for just beyond this vale of earth into the other 
world the struggle will be going on still and we shall labor 
there. 

“When Jesus was about to be led away to the cruci- 
fixion, did He not say: ‘Think thou that I can not pray 
to my Father and He shall presently give me more than 
twelve legions of angels?’ And to-day, after more than 
eighteen hundred years have passed, think you not that 
He could send twelve times twelve legions of angels to 
fight in this righteous battle, the right against the wrong? 
Yes, Marie, you and I will continue our work.” 

Marie’s face wore a look of reverence as she listened. 
Her son came and rested his hand upon the shoulder of 
his mother, his beautiful face glowing with light and his 
soul seemed to be carried away with enthusiasm as he 
drank from the subject under discussion. Presently the 
conversation changed. This same noble specimen of 
boyhood caressed his mother’s brow and smoothed her 
beautiful hair, which was silvered now, and said: “My 
beautiful mother, and noble Aunt Ruth, I have been listen- 
ing to your conversation just now and want to say to you 
that I shall be a man by and by, then may I not begin 
where you leave of¥ to help God and the angels fight the 
rum fiend?” 

Marie caught him to her bosom and answered : “God 
bless you, my noble son! May He make you a mighty 
general to lead the temperance armies on to victory!” 

Ruth smiled and pressed baby Viola to her breast, say- 
ing as she did so: “Yes, thank God for the plan of work 
given us by the prophet Joel where he says: Tell ye 


360 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


your children of it, ana let your children tell their children, 
and their children another generation.’ We will do our 
work well, Marie, and then let our mantle fall upon our 
children while we go on to swell the army of the ‘legions 
of angels’ that God has sent out to minister to those of 
earth.” 

At that moment there was a sharp ring at the door bell 
and Jack Halstead answered the imperative summons in 
person. An accident had occurred on the street and 
help was needed. 

They went out and found on the ground a drunken 
man who had fallen from his carriage and was apparently 
dead. Mrs. Halstead hastened to bring the restoratives 
that had been called for, while the guests of the house 
stepped out upon the piazza to view the state of the un- 
happy man. Immediately an exclamation or horror burst 
from Marie’s lips. It was Harry Rumsford come to his 
death in a state of intoxication. The words came back 
to her that she had spoken in derision of Ruth so many 
years before: “The Earnestines have drunk wine too 
many centuries to be frightened out of their beverage 
by such foolish temperance babble.” 

How glad she was at that moment that she was ar- 
rayed with the right on the side of temperance and that 
remorse for her words of the past could not trouble her 
now. 

The body was lifted from the pavement and carried 
away, while the company once more came back to the 
brightness of the drawing-room, feeling that a lost soul 
had gone out to meet its God. 

Aunt I.angsford, now aged and infirm, came and stood 
by her niece and said: “Marie, is there aught of respon- 
sibility resting upon us concerning the burial of Harry 
Rumsford?” 


WAITING ON THE WATCH TOWER. 


361 


Marie, who had been turning the question over in her 
own mind, made answer: “Not for love’s sake. Aunt 
Emile, but for humanity’s sake I will see that the body 
of the wretched man is decently interred. He was the 
son of my father’s sister, and the Earnestine blood was 
in his veins, and it was the Earnestine beverage and the 
Earnestine gold that made him what he was. Another 
example of a good citizen sacrificed to society and a soul 
lost because of moderate drinking. Had my unfortunate 
cousin imbibed the spirit of temperance and been obliged 
to make his own way in the world, the world might have 
been better for his having lived in it. As it now is, ‘No 
drunkard can inherit the kingdom of Heaven,’ and his 
soul, gone out into eternity, must abide in darkness.” 

On the following morning two deaths were chronicled 
in the San Francisco papers. The first said: “Another 
siren dead. At the city prison last night Rose Sommers, 
an abandoned and dissolute woman, died. The case was 
picked up yesterday by Officer McHennesy and charged 
with vagrancy. A few minutes after her arrival in prison 
she was taken ill and died in horrible convulsions.” 

The next was a whole column and a half devoted to the 
Hon. Harry Rumsford, who had fallen from his carriage 
with heart failure. His excellent character was eulogized, 
his many virtues praised. His funeral services were to 
be arranged by a certain secret order that was to bury 
him with much pomp and display. 

Marie Stocklaid’s lip curled with disdain at the expres- 
sion of the public press. She knew what a dark record 
the man had made. Reading down the column she found : 
“Polly Hopkins again in court. Stood before Judge Rix 
and plead her own case.” 

“Judge, I plead guilty, but I pray your honor, don’t 


362 


RUTH AND MARIE. 


sentence me this time, for I have not spent a holiday sea- 
son out of prison for seven years.” 

For once it was recorded that a judge was merciful and 
Polly was free to get drunk on New Year’s day. Ah, 
poor slaves to the accursed cup ! When shall thy freedom 
be declared and the land rid of its blighting curse? 

Turning to the political side of the paper, Marie’s eyes 
were electrified by a great flaming heading to an editorial ; 
“The Two Grand Old Parties Dead! The Prohibitionists 
and Populists united in the two leading issues of the day 
— ^Temperance and Labor.” With a grand shout, Marie 
started to go in quest of Ruth that they might help ring 
the wedding bells announcing victory to the world. 

She was met on the threshold by Mrs. Halstead, who 
had come to invite her to the drawing-room to join a 
happy company that were assembled there. 

Advancing into the drawing-room her face was electri- 
fied with happiness. Two young people, a man and 
woman, were ushered into their presence and took their 
positions before the minister of the gospel. This was 
surely a wedding. It was Jeanetta, the faithful maid, and 
Dan, the coachman. They had served Marie long and 
well and were now in the employ of the new mistress of 
the old Palace Earnestine. A very appropriate and well- 
timed marriage it seemed. These two young people had 
grown into Mrs. Stocklaid’s heart and her cherished works 
of reform. After the ceremony was performed Marie 
broke the news of the union of Temperance and Labor, 
and a glad hallelujah went up from all present. The an- 
nouncement was to them as of an evangelist come to de- 
clare the death of the liquor traffic, “For the saloon must 
go!” 

A perfect and beautiful description of the orderly way 


WAITING ON THE WATCH TOWER. 


in which the election had carried was given in the San 
Francisco papers and woman was highly eulogized for 
the part she had taken in this grand political drama. It 
said she had indeed proven by the power of her ballot that 
it was not the party /or which she labored, but for men 
worthy to hold the highest positions in office attained by 
the gifts of the people. With this mixture of the bitter 
with the sweet, we ask you to stand upon the watch-tower 
now and after nineteen hundred to behold the world revo- 
lutionized and the nation free from the curse of rum. Thus 
we will leave you with brave, dauntless Ruth Halstead 
to continue your labor of love for humanity, while she, 
with the assistance of her excellent husband, will train 
baby Viola to take her place in life’s battle when she at 
last shall be called to that better and higher world. We 
will follow Marie Stocklaid back to her villa, where .she, 
too, will continue to love and labor in the cause of right. 
There we will watch her as she lingers around the chair 
of Aunt Langsford, making her last days her brightest 
and best upon the earth. There, with approving smile, 
we will look upon her daily devotion to her beautiful son, 
who is some day to develop into a master reformer. There, 
we shall hear the words of encouragement from her de- 
voted husband, who is redeemed from the curse of rum. 

As we linger there we shall be waiting and watching 
with the angels and the people of earth to welcome the 
glad message that America, the noblest and best, is free 
from the chains of monopoly and rum and has entered 
into that peace that will flow tranquilly on forever. 


I 






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